Wild Monkey Sex

 
not yet old enough
to channel out the noise
and focus on the task
literally at hand

too much booze and blues
and verbal abuse went down
that night

that night
when I went from boy
to broken man

butterfly ravished,
knees dead enough
to let me know
that I'd better stay put
or I would blow it,

as if I wouldn't anyway

and the nubile goddess
gently bestowing
her graces
stripped,
stretched,
and slided across the room
to my can't believe
the fucking luck
tonight

of course I hadn't told her
I mean,
how hard
could it be?

right?

then those words,
that sultry snarl

"Come on, Monkey Boy,
show me what you've got!"

just before
embracing my longing,
my never before so aching,
in a soft, wet squeeze
that exploded my vision
in competition
with those burning words

Monkey Boy?
what the fuck?

the dual forces in
sensation
confusion
hellride
blew the fuse
that held me carefully
carelessly composed

what the hell
does she want from me?

and the engine did
as engines do
and left me
abandoned, alone
and unable

wham bam slam
jumped off walked out,
leaving a trail
of patronising snicker
faster than I could abort
my third mid-stroke jut

and all I registered
was that enduring echo
of a growling grunt chanting
monkeyboymonkeyboy
endlessly in the
back of spine,
core of bone,
centre of esteem
and all I could focus on,
the nagging gagging question...

...who will she tell?

For annaswirls and perks - be careful what you wish for, girls ;)