What Good Luck

CONTENT WARNING: Sexually explicit content. BDSM and bondage, may be unsuitable to some readers. 18+ only.

He leans, resting his forehead 
into mine. He is unable 
to slap me; force abandons 
his hand until he’s cradling 
my face in one palm. 
His calculating look 
softens into feeling
and his words 
grow simple– 
“You’re a good girl,” and 
“I’m lucky.”

I drop under. 
In the third hotel 
I hit a threshold dose. 
It isn’t sex 
that does it, not exactly, 
but once I cum for him, 
hog-tied with his cock 
soft in my mouth 
he lifts my chin, 
he takes my gaze, 
he asks me what 
just happened. He tells me, 
in an instant, I have changed. 

Thank you to Wayne Crest for the photo and the inspiration. ❤️ 


Weather Balloon

Over and over 
he brings me 
to the edge 
of the bed, 

those penetrating eyes, 
that penetrating hand 
drills into me until 
the pressure mounts 
and builds. I ask,
“Are you into squirting?” 
and his eyes spin wild, 
“Only one way to find out.”
His answer holds
a supplication 
and an offer. 
They tumble 
from his mouth. 
I catch them both,

and I deny them,

holding water back. 
I will not test him.
Better to let him wonder 
in the winter morning slush, 
still a stranger to the rush 
of springmelt flood. 
I am not his lab. I won’t 
be an experiment that fails.