sawzall

The package said it was thick. 7 inches, with balls
to protect me from the actual hardware.
Sparkling pink jellie soft against the forced insertion
of a sawblade, wrapped in ducttape, cased with a seven dollar cigar tube. Glued
in with Gorilla glue, for good measure. Are you sure this is safe?

My pussy was dancing, like the sway
of a tennis player's skirt- preparing to receive service. The sound
of the motor, the gradual glide in and out...simple, consistent, committed.
Filling me, and moving aside all
thoughts but taking in this one experience one movement at a time.

He holds the trigger with confidence and crafts my climax
like an artist, telling me that I love taking it all.
I do. I love him watching me.
Bearing deeper, faster, its neutrality and simple acceptance
brings me comfort. No one is going anywhere until I find my
rhythm and come.

My patience is wearing thin, and I beg
to be taken over by both machine and operator. I pivot and crank
until I break and release my stressful afternoon. I ask
to be held- but instead he throws his arms around me and holds me down.