October 11, 2013

The Crypt

Well hello there... I've missed you, my sweet little mindfucks. I flatter myself that you've missed me, too. Just because I haven't been around doesn't mean that I haven't been thinking of you out there, madly diddling yourselves in the darkest corners of the internet. Have you grown tired of the bombardment of dripping cocks? Of the tattooed tits, the gaping cunts, the distended assholes?The midnight images posted by ex-lovers and unrequited loves? And have you come crawling here in search of respite from all that emptiness? There is so little imagination left out there. Let me take you in my arms and tell you a story...

The hush of prayer as I enter the cathedral. Summer sun shines through the windows, glass stained with the stories of sacrifice and salvation, casting distorted prisms of light onto the faces of the pious. Scent of incense and devotion. Scent of sin.

Christ on the cross stares blindly out over lamb and wolf alike. Humbled, on their knees, the faithful clasp their hands and bow their heads. They pray to be forgiven, or maybe they only pretend to pray. There is no need for me to pray, or to pretend. I cannot be forgiven. I wink at Jesus and he winks back, impaled for all eternity on his great wooden phallus.

I descend the steps to the crypt, where you are waiting. Here, surrounded by the marble tombs of saints, of virgins and of rapists, you lay me down on the cold stone floor, push my skirt up above my waist, tear my panties off. You kneel in front of me as if in prayer and lower your face to my cunt, slip your tongue into that slit, soft and warm and wet, probing, licking, tasting. I extend my arms, Christ-like, feel the centuries-old stone cool against my skin. I close my eyes as you suck my clit, tongue flicking, making me twitch and moan.          

I pull your face up to mine and kiss you hungrily as I slip my fingers between my legs, bring them to my face and inhale the heavenly scent of my sex upon them. I reach for your cock, hot and hard in my hand, and guide you into me, my body and soul are empty and need to be filled. And oh God yes this heat and sweat and skin fuck me please God yes. And we fuck. We fuck like missionaries on the cold stone floor of this cathedral, unrepentant sinners for whom fornication is the only hope of salvation, fucking fucking fucking, until we come together in the holy ecstasy of martyrs.

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