Via Strife (Missy's Love)
Robert Scott Leyse
tense and bitchy -- plenty itchy.
Yes, it's the usual: she raises twitchy
Rear high while pressing face into pillow:
My, she's graceful as a breeze teased willow!
"Ass-mauling! I want an ass-mauling now!"
She shouts (as if extracting my cock-plow
is something I need to be told to do;
as if I'm not savoring entre nous
in advance, hastily unzipping pants!).
Missy slaps the mattress, glances askance
With a snippety frown: "Right now, dammit!"
But she's also laughing, blowing kisses,
And making nice -- swallowing her hisses --
While bouncing about: a hyper rabbit.
Yes, what a limber lass! What gyrations!
Missy's adept at ass undulations!
Could I resist if I wanted to? Nay!
Missy's engulfment in
Of the senses, shimmering of the blood --
A dizzying surge of the need to flood!
disrobed and am crawling on the right
Side of the bed, plainly see the slut-light
In Missy's dark eyes. "Growl and roar!" she cries,
"And then attack! Maul me hard, don't hold back!"
Oh, I love this game! -- when I'm a wildcat
Stalking for the kill, lion acrobat
Readying myself to pounce on her rear:
It's tingling delight so forceful it sears!
I growl and snarl, am enjoying the heat
Of anticipation as her ass-treat
Awaits -- so soft, silky! What randy meat!
There's nothing like Missy's succulent seat!
Another growl -- and then a drawn out howl;
And I leap, wipe that nasty budding scowl
Of impatience off her face with a storm
Of slaps and grabs: I completely transform
From man into ravenous jungle beast
Delirious before a fleshy feast!
Missy erupts into shouting giggles --
Real hysterics -- as her behind wiggles
At my nipping mouth; I'm all but tripping
Over bursts of joy inside while sipping
Of her lily petal skin; and the din
Of Missy's laughter sparkles in my ears:
Tones so beautiful I'm nearly in tears!
Well, what's more fulfilling than brat-cat ass? --
A beautiful girl, who only mouths sass? --
A conniving minx, tantrum-tossing bitch,
Who's happiest when there isn't a stitch
Of clothing on her always lusting body? --
A sweetmeat who lives for being naughty?
By fuck! There's nothing like copulation
With a kitty-brat, sans moderation!
My understanding blurs and sight dissolves;
About Missy's behind the room revolves:
Where's the ceiling? Where are the walls?
I'm lapping with tongue, making wildcat calls!
Missy abruptly twists onto her back,
Nods towards her nether mouth: I'm not to slack!
God! A scrumptious hothouse flower yearning
For pollination -- moist, scarlet, burning!
Yes, how this orifice of Missy-Sue
Sucks at me from inside, coats cock with glue!
Two thrusts and she's tense, clawing at my chest
While guiding my hands to her heaving breasts.
"Tweak, slap, assial!" cries she. "Worry my nips,
Send me headlong into total eclipse!
Squeeze, scratch! Abuse and use me up, honey!"
What's not to love in her? Such a sunny
Loving disposition during frolic --
Yes, I'm enjoying the feast of Missy:
Her giggles and litheness make me blissy
Like cat with bird in mouth; I've cock in pink
As our tongues intertwine, each sip a drink;
And my hands still clasp and knead her tits;
Shortly, she's having telltale flutter-fits:
Her uprush meeting my gush seems a dream!
lull in a daze, like floating on cream,
Follows; and then a tingling sensation
At Missy's caressful
(Ghostly circle-movements of a girl's hands
perform wonders: it's as if sparkling sands
are dancing upon and blurring one's nerves,
dissolving last vestiges of reserve!)
Yes, with Missy sex romping hits all dips
And crests: she's a trip to Hades and sips
Of Heaven rolled into one moody girl:
She's nonstop rollercoast, emotion-swirl!
To wit: a scowl soon appears on her face.
"I'm still edgy!" she says. "You need to chase
Me around the place, capture me rougher,
Fling me on carpet, ramrod me tougher!"
Deeming me unmotivated, she cracks
A slap across my cheek; then whacks
My shin with a shoe. Christ! Always testing
My forebearance, never resting
With the thought I might be very willing
To play more games, do more spilling
Of my seed into her restive flower! --
Always sowing strife in our love-bower!
Hell, I was happy to play -- now I'm mad:
Missy makes it to the living room couch
By the time I overtake her -- and ouch!
She smacks with shoe again, saying: "Spank me!
Make my bratty behind red, then shank me!"
I seize her neck and squeeze, bend her
Over the cushions, commence to rend her
With deep thrusts -- nor to neglect her spanking:
My right hand grasps her hair, begins yanking
Her head back as I smack her rear with the left,
Delight in delving harder in her cleft;
And then I stuff a stocking in her mouth:
No talking -- only moans -- does it allow'th!
Ha! Whatever I do feeds her desire:
It's to high drama that Missy aspires!
A look of bliss soon suffuses her face --
You'd swear she was a little girl in lace
For the first time, savoring finery!
She's happy as a lush in winery!
As for my end: Missy awakes and feeds
Needs I never knew I had: I sow seeds
Of subconscious hunger and allay fears
That gnaw without my knowing: I ax years
Of accumulated inner baggage,
Find myself cut free of psychic draggage!
Yes, that's the alchemy of every night
With Missy: I'm lifted into the light
Of exorcism, rebirth, inner peace!
May darling Missy's stormings never cease!
was born in San Francisco, grew up in various locales about America,
lived in Paris for a spell, and now resides on Manhattan's Upper
East Side. Upon arrival in Manhattan he lived in several East
Village dumps and worked as a New York cab driver on the night
shift, with the aim of atoning for a sheltered upbringing and
having adventures the likes of which he'd never had before and
he wasn't disappointed; subsequently he acquired over a dozen
years of experience in the legal field, where he was pleasantly
surprised to find that additional adventures, of the office politics
and shenanigans variety, were to be had; presently he works in
the advertising field, where he's not looking for any special
adventures, having decided to keep work separate from fun and
games and have secrets that are easier to keep. He skis in Sun
Valley, Idaho, surfs with board and body in southern California
and Puerto Rico, once took a belly dance class in Green Bay, Wisconsin,
and the most incandescent yoga class he’s ever had was on
a stand-up paddle board in Condado Lagoon during a furious rainstorm.
He eats fish heads and insects and drinks blood, but can’t
be paid to eat potato chips or cake.
His three novels are: Liaisons for Laughs: Angie & Ella’s
Summer of Delirium (July, 2009), Self-Murder (April,
2010), and Attraction and Repulsion (June, 2011). His
two novellas are Penelope Prim and Tallulah Tempest
(both February, 2015). The latter was originally intended to be
a send-up of volatile relationships but turned out to be an appreciation
and celebration of them instead: sometimes a tale decides where
it wishes to go, the author be damned. Forthcoming are collections
of short stories, epigrams, and more novellas.
Via Strife (Missy's Love)
2003 by Robert
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