Excerpted from Playland
Smoker’s cough, dry throat wanting a cigarette and
wanting to sleep through the night. Horny, wanting to beat
off. Toes and feet. The smooth arch and taste. Ankles and
a second lick. Toes and a tongue to trace them. Spaces between
toes to be licked out and a stifled giggle. The taste of
genitals freshly washed with ivory soap. The clean smell
and taste of washclothed asshole. The squirm and sigh of
prodding tongue. The slow curl and happy breath, a swelling
eggsack. The taste of his clean armpits and another giggle
beside it. The pant of erection, the press of crotch into
mouth trying to stuff it all in, the tidy suction on one
finger sliding up greased ass, the hot squirm and the arcing
ejaculate. Warm sigh and folding into dry arms. Falling
asleep a little while. Kissed lips and fingers trace. Another
swelling, nervous laugh. Can we do it again? And the rolling
in arms, the turning over and under tangled sheets knotted
round naked adolescent waists. The challenge of getting
free. The challenge of being entangled again. Smooth hands
on slippery ass, wanting to grab a handful and hang on.
One hand on stomach like a wrestling move. He’s on
all fours. Behind him, almost panting, have to give
up <pant> smoking, ripple of
laughter in his stomach. The flutter of pulses too excited,
quiet jerking of his cock in impatience. Rubbing his thigh
with my cock, nuzzling his back with my lips, up his neck
and shivers. Hesitant giggles tracing his stomach, up his
ribs dipping into armpits. Other hand tracing curved ass
towards kundalini center. Smell of kundalini uncoiling,
opening with lingam hunger. Moisture of fingers drizzled
in lubricant, ringing around asshole and slowly pushing
inside. The reluctant give, leaning back into my hand. Cupping
his swollen genitals in my other hand. A couple jerks of
joy.
Sniffing the opening, hesitant, then pressing forward.
Eagerness and restraint. Gentle. He takes the head with
a heavy breath. Pause for his comfort and acceptance. A
little further, half an inch of shaft. He’s breathing
harder, wanting and a little sore. It feels like it’s
tearing. We breathe together a minute. A little farther
then it gives and I’m all the way inside him. I feel
the pull of him, a hungry sucking coming from inside. His
body wants this. I pull back slowly, teasing then press
up into him again. Slowly our bodies find a rhythm. He begins
to cry as he comes, his body wracked with a sobbing orgasm.
If we can cry when we cum, he asks, can we laugh as well?
I promise him we’ll try. The idea of making him cum
as I tickle him excites me and I plan it deliriously in
my mind. I can’t wait to try his delicious sensitivities.
A mouth on his cock as he’s laughing, one hand roving
his belly and up his ribs, the other tickling his balls
and up inside his ass --only the beginning. This after feathers,
fur, tongues and fingers, the delirious laughter giving
up all control and surrendering to total chaotic pleasure.
Sucking felt like nursing his cock, and surprised when he
let go a warm yellow stream in my face. The pleasure and
shame of that final act of letting go pushes him over the
edge and his body wracked and struggling against the bondage
of pleasure, he cums, body shaking like a sweaty leaf. His
giggles subside. He looks at me with tired joy. He whispers
something about love and thanks. He falls asleep before
I get him untied. His smile serene, his body exhausted.
© 2007 Raymond Taylor
Raymond Taylor is a San Francisco trained
social activist who believes the personal is political,
recognizing the link between the Arts and Social Change.
He has published both online and in print, in the US and
UK on subjects as varied as sexual abuse, mental illness,
prostitution, addiction, Trans- and gender identity, HIV
and AIDS. Raymond’s work has been featured in The
James White Review, Suspect Thoughts, Velvet
Mafia, Other Magazine and the UK based The
International Journal of Erotica which serialized his
nineteen poem cycle “Moscow/St. Petersburg”.
He currently resides in the state of mind. He is just visiting.
