Favorite Whore Of My Penis

Steven convinced me
to partake, allow the splay.
His black haired shoulders and muscled
butt quivered in thrusts, grunts.

Brenda, accepting as a nun,
smiles like the moon does
over hand holding spooners do
meeting, touching first time.

A missionary by trade, she offers
loins, dimpled lower back, smooth
between breasts that gave me need
to suck the cross that hangs there.

She whispers:
You are different, your stroke long,
slowly taking my pussy for your own
with eyes trying at romancing occupation.

Steven grunts alone across room,
spent of fluid, counting money for
more exotic pumping.
He rolls his socks, suggests I hurry.

We part.

I sleep restless years later.
Brenda the gracious.
Shopper in my favorite grocery.
The woman in an airport far away.