May 5, 2011

Shark Tank

Well, Jesus fatherfucking Christ, look who's here! That's right, straight from the cells of the sex-asylum, it's your sometimes-not-so-friendly neighbourhood fornicator. And yes, I do realize that it's been months since we've spoken. Or, to be accurate, since I've written. Get over it already, you greedy assholes. I have more important things to do with my time than help you get off. (Namely, get off myself. Although I know you like reading about that, too.) Speaking of greedy assholes, I've been patiently biding my time here in the asylum, waiting for just the right moment, hoping to find you alone in the dark. And, finally, blessedly, here you are. I can't tell you how glad I am that you've come...

Techno-trash beats thump heavily and the air reeks of Danier and desperation. I am sober as a saint in my six-inch stilettos while strangers beside me choke back shots in their pathetic attempts to subvert their inhibitions. I have no inhibitions and all the subversions a girl could ask for. I don't need liquor.

You’ve been circling me for the past few hours. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you there, my shark in the shadows. I deign, finally, to allow you to catch my eye. My gaze reels you in, and I grin because I know that soon we will be flopping around together, breathless, desperate, dying.

I wait with bated breath as you swim upstream against the current of hopeless stumbling bodies. Alone in this sea of despondence, we two are hopeful. There is no question here.

And you reach me, finally, blessedly, and I take your hand and lead you through the pulsing throng, the techno-trash beat pounding in my chest, and I feel the familiar dampness down below as my cunt gets ready for you. I push the stall door open and close it behind us. We stand in puddles of piss and you push me back against the wall of this cramped bathroom stall and we fumble with zippers and your cock springs up, hot and hard, and my cunt responds in kind, warm and wet, and you lift me up with your hands under my bare ass and I brace one stiletto against the far wall and you enter me and we snap hungrily at each other and we fuck as the club piscators trawl the dancefloor and we fuck as the muffled beat pounds and we fuck in this filthy bathroom stall and we fuck fuck fuck until we come together in waves, breathlessly, desperately, and we die that little death that makes living the only option and we cling to each other until the waves subside and I kiss your rough shark cheek and leave you there standing in puddles of piss.

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