Rough Trade Saints Pt. 1

Gunmetal kisses and cordite-scented caress.
Longing for that choking pleasure-pain you provide.
I am addicted to the abuse, my necklace of bruises a testament to your love.
Yet all the clichéd lines slip away as the world is muffled,
my face thrust down into the dark pillowcase.

Gunmetal kisses against my temple, gun oil tears on my cheek.
"Baby, we're gonna have some fun" you whisper, cocking back the hammer.
You love it when I struggle, so I put up a fight as you rip into me.

Gunmetal kisses, digging into my skull.
It's impossible to know who truly surrenders.
The mix of sweat, pain and pleasure thickens the air...
Not that I can breathe, with your hand around my throat..
Though I know now, I own you as much as you own me.

Gunmetal kisses, the barrel slides across my tongue as you drop into me...
When you tell me what a worthless piece of ass I am, I hear "I love you."
And when I pass out the last I feel are gunmetal kisses across my neck.

M.J. McGuire-Curry
July 28th 2007

Rough Trade Saints Pt. 2

Your spit tastes like cheap beer and expensive cigars.
You give me a face full as my cock rips you open.
Letting me know that you're in control,
Roles don't apply here, we don't understand them.
Top, bottom, sub, dom.
"Yes please" is all we comprehend.

My cum dripping from your ass as you squat on my chest,
jerking your bull dick in my face.
The primal stink of old sweat, precum and piss filling my nostrils.
It transcends desire.
It's the smell of love. Bitter, sweet, salty, wet, pure and untamed.

Thick ropes hit my face, my tongue, my neck.
The snarl leaves your lips, replaced by a smile...

M.J. McGuire-Curry
December 24th 2007