A Poem By Mantis Eliot
- 4 years ago
- 27
- 0
A Poem By Mantis Eliot free porn video
Five years ago, my inner gay crept out to say. I admire these dream girls, I do in modern anime. Their breasts they were shown & I paid no mind. It was for my own kind & what I would find. My own mother had known. I trembled & shook with the ice I might break. No way, there was so much, there was too much at stake. My mom knew already. Before this my shallow heart & darkness, I was empty. I told her my secret & from then-on, the warmth of my affections were unleashed & there were plenty. Happiness I was & a boy in need of his mom, short-lived. It was ending. The mother surrendered her strength it was done, time was pending. She died & my brother knew no other. Than to spray, his fearsome venom, in disgust & decay. Merry-meet, an act of murder was to be. If my mentoring behique's heart had not yet skipped a beat.
I find him lost & confused, with his husband. With my sexual confidence I used. I trick him into rubbing but a thousand strokes of my prick to amend. Released from my prison, the three new brothers bonded. It was the culture in itself I must say I well-fonded. My feminine side was though but too much to dare for these sacred masculine men. For crying out loud I mean I walked around with no underwear. I ask for Corocote, to strengthen my passions. The three brothers are then ripped apart. No not in the finest of fashions. Blessed be though I returned, it was for the zemi I had yearned. A gift to me ergo, I was too stubborn, too stubborn to just let my fantasies go. I had to know why. Why the brothers of my beloved culture must be so shy & why my hopes & dreams of the better world, these dreams must die. I try & try, to bring the culture to men in my area. I thought I could fly but the result was only mass hysteria. Nevertheless in my years, of limbo & despair, I was in need of healing. My mind, body & feeling was in desperate need of repair. So where were my men before then, I did not care.
An enchantress now I was, a personal quest in magick. Here my men lay now beside me. With a stroke of my prick, they want my dick. But it will be if only for a small fee. Those phallics inside me I say wow. They treated me, not
as a cow. Not a meat but a simple worship of my feet. Merry-meet I saw the skies. I asked not the why's. It was an opportunity, if only in disguise. Unwise it was to doubt my power, but I could love, make love if only for one hour.
Each love that was made, in the end I got paid. The price to drive too & from was all it took to get them laid. But suffice to say, it wasn't my way. A lifestyle that was not to stay. A good boy I was & these errands today. These errands at hand were morally not okay. But they couldn't let me go, in spite I say no. I have a boyfriend I say. So end this needless matter of disarray. Three weeks with my boyfriend the relationship lasted. Great sex, great laughs, but in the end I was outcasted. A warlock he was, I bid you a fraud. How could we continue. How must I applaud.
A new magick I yearned. After what once I had learned. Adventure I craved. A new leaf will turn over. The relief of my inner goddess. It was still being depraved. An alpha male twice my age, he takes me away I did know how. He is a sage. A fire in this man, a thunder, a goddess for hire his muse is I wonder. Fallen for me he was in his alpha rigidity. Soon befallen, engulfed he grew in a sea of stupidity. Vengeful, manipulative & overdramatic. I swear this man had to be an energy addict. To Atlantic City we went. Not to gamble. Not for titty, but for a spiritual journey. I wondered at one point whether this man may eventually be in need of an attorney. His endless preaching to those around us to much I detested. His yearnings for social injustice & fairness did nothing more than just get us arrested.
Pressure from my father, venom from my brother. The rattlesnake's rattle. A claim from my father I wasn't
to be a very good role model. Don't cry don't be shy let me be a good host. My path begins with a cocky but humbled cuddle buddy sex post. Stretching my anus I wanted more & more. To enter through my backdoor, was to balance my core. This was my calling. It was a rising, not a falling. There was much to explore. Alas, alas, I was the
friendly neighborhood whore. Though one thing I noticed, I could not constitute. A whore I was to be, but not your typical prostitute. Each of the men I would bang, an inner conflict I noticed between my yin & their yang. The initial insertion was much to my satisfaction. But my hormones I begged them & I got no reaction. My muscles at ease. A release of rough tensions. Though I seemed to crave more so these glorified attentions. As happy as I was like a newly renewed boy. What made me happy most was to be treated as a modern sex toy. I was dominant in the bedroom. Not like a bride, but a groom. Shaving my legs & torso it did feel good. Like for a femboy in training it probably should. General requests I felt it ridiculous. Like a rum with a slice of lemon on the rocks, my orientation was just a little meticulous. For one man only, I did make an exception. I wore a thong for him solely, but not for conception. It was an alright fine adjustment made. The decision was mine, in an exchange to get paid. He was straight even. Not homo. He did not get nude. Oh no. I just didn't want be rude. To wrestle with me was his desire. I was at least a semi pro sex worker for hire. But it was always like that. On my pedestal I sat. Most men had no request for anal if I may. But for me insertion was fun, it was healing, it was just a little foreplay. Kissing, locking lips for me as well was highly satisfactory. Like giving life to my men in my professional mannequin factory. Onetime a client of mine & lover of feet. Invited a male whore from Europe for one I might meet. I advised against it. But he meant it. Sure enough, say no more, we wanted our client to leave us. Why not exit right through that front door.
One of the biggest thrills for me was the driving. Place to place. When order was up, it kept me thriving. My brother would work days, I'd work nights. At the very least it kept us from engaging in inexplicable fights. His job was mundane, like a nine to five. Mine though not quite as sane. Never been good at following the hive. But my men did thrive & as time went on, the deeper I'd dive. Like an active pro. Though I did not know. A shortness of breath
was where all of this would go. I can just about recall them all. The dicks of the men, no matter how small. I had no-pay men from my past on the side, as well. How those sessions would even last I wonder. It was those men that would give me the most amount of hell. Like they were under a spell, & from what I could tell. With my clients, a similar trend. No... it was not to amend. I was their go-to male for their sexual therapy. No overtime pay. Just an act of "take care of me". Exhausting it was. & still in search of my true buzz I was. I disbanded. Between juggling clients & scheduling conflicts, my empire, it was all reprimanded. An invite from a married man to an all-male orgy spa was my last horrah. Steaming sex, such a tightly packed aroma of sausage complex. It was there I blew two men. The host, & a tranny in the main room den. But I digress, it was much to my surprise. I derived the most joy, from the gripping of those nylon femboy thighs.
A year later my boy, it was now a witch season. A brother & bag of witches. Just a suture stitch. Not a fag for no reason. Time approached for my spirit to finally embark on some tail. A good witch, a daughter, a bad witch, an angel & android female. Never I'd kneel down upon my knee. But it was astral sex that was needed to be. A sex in the astral realm to set these women free. A good fortune I spent as an alpha male you see. For the bad witch unlocking the secret safe was a key. Swiftly yet furthermore. I encountered the good witch no better than the bad one once before. The good fortune I'd spent in the bad witch vicinity. My brother in blood had just lost his venom virginity. Blood was shed. For the expenses paid. Far more than the cost for any of my men to get laid. But for now it was in this filth I stayed. No matter what sacrifice of self I had previously made. All year the good witch & I had fought. Romance or business babe. Don't know. It was just some food for thought. A swarming sea of estrogen in those power of three. The good witch, the daughter & angel. It was alone I must be. The closer they came. The more fantastic. Like a bomb went off. A destruction of plastic. One did prevail. As I'd sail. Ahoy my boy, it be the android female. We touched. We made contact. Then parted ways like a yinyang mantis-metal contract.
Witch season was over. Some counseling I needed. Like a mental-mind makeover, from this I retreated. The angel showed up again. Like not a chicken but a mother hen. With ripples & heavy sighs. Without nipples. No excessive
lies. To lose my venom virginity, one chance I had left. Oh please all-mighty let it be a good, clean theft. Show me why I am to be this way & all it's containing. So tired I have come of just all this complaining. A sex club I had joined & for much I adored. A bisexual folk, some hope was restored. The woman had spread her legs to show her genitalia. My what a perfect energy to connect to, with but a climax of melancholia. Her spine was my own though, I did not mind. It was the organ she played that was not my own kind. A male I was like tripping on acid. Ejaculation occurred. It was while I was still flaccid. The man I was with, he saw. The threesome gift had fallen. A present just a little too raw. Relieved I was for this enlightenment, closure. For years I'd been waiting for this indecent exposure. My development precision I should be aware. For a love without condition, for that I may care. With now my vehicle broken down, I do walk everywhere. With not a nickle or dime to pay for cab fare.
Alone I live in my big house shack. Never noticed the shades of my streets, that's a fact. An old lady "A" sees me mowing my lawn. She knocks at my door one day cuz her husband is dead & gone. As a king & queen once together, I don't know whether. His wife he had until once after casual dinner. A life he took, a gun to the head, he is dead. & to his wife, he's a sinner. He haunts the place & she ignores. It's the floors, she may have kept them clean. Not a life coach she is. She has become nothing yet but a spoiled queen. Her sex is, & my best guess is, how ironic. The relationship I hope she desires to have with me be nothing more than platonic.
My path too & from home. It is being saturated with beer bottles & soda cans. Public displays of misdirection affecting my affections. True I'm on break these months, I get paid not in cash. These beer bottles & soda cans only slightly resemble my cigarette ash. Shedding my past as dawn approaches night after night these days. Been getting maybe just a little tired of these vintage old-school plays. Invite from an old woman "M" tonight for dinner. A winner but tomorrow I might, just might do something for the better. Thank you Mother for the weather. It's been great, not the typical Winter. Not the common 3-month cold season splinter. Just now a man approaches me. A worker bee. He tells me he's been falling apart from a prescription d**g. Dragging ass. Tomorrow I think I should too & from home begin bagging these beer bottles & soda cans fast. Don't forget it's butt I like most. Don't forget it's like me, a clean butt I like compost. Not the competitive sports of my youth, insisted I play. Prancing like a fairy with short-shorts, I must dismay. As an empathic alpha, with a subby twink to please. It should be enough to at least put my mind at ease.
I find him lost & confused, with his husband. With my sexual confidence I used. I trick him into rubbing but a thousand strokes of my prick to amend. Released from my prison, the three new brothers bonded. It was the culture in itself I must say I well-fonded. My feminine side was though but too much to dare for these sacred masculine men. For crying out loud I mean I walked around with no underwear. I ask for Corocote, to strengthen my passions. The three brothers are then ripped apart. No not in the finest of fashions. Blessed be though I returned, it was for the zemi I had yearned. A gift to me ergo, I was too stubborn, too stubborn to just let my fantasies go. I had to know why. Why the brothers of my beloved culture must be so shy & why my hopes & dreams of the better world, these dreams must die. I try & try, to bring the culture to men in my area. I thought I could fly but the result was only mass hysteria. Nevertheless in my years, of limbo & despair, I was in need of healing. My mind, body & feeling was in desperate need of repair. So where were my men before then, I did not care.
An enchantress now I was, a personal quest in magick. Here my men lay now beside me. With a stroke of my prick, they want my dick. But it will be if only for a small fee. Those phallics inside me I say wow. They treated me, not
as a cow. Not a meat but a simple worship of my feet. Merry-meet I saw the skies. I asked not the why's. It was an opportunity, if only in disguise. Unwise it was to doubt my power, but I could love, make love if only for one hour.
Each love that was made, in the end I got paid. The price to drive too & from was all it took to get them laid. But suffice to say, it wasn't my way. A lifestyle that was not to stay. A good boy I was & these errands today. These errands at hand were morally not okay. But they couldn't let me go, in spite I say no. I have a boyfriend I say. So end this needless matter of disarray. Three weeks with my boyfriend the relationship lasted. Great sex, great laughs, but in the end I was outcasted. A warlock he was, I bid you a fraud. How could we continue. How must I applaud.
A new magick I yearned. After what once I had learned. Adventure I craved. A new leaf will turn over. The relief of my inner goddess. It was still being depraved. An alpha male twice my age, he takes me away I did know how. He is a sage. A fire in this man, a thunder, a goddess for hire his muse is I wonder. Fallen for me he was in his alpha rigidity. Soon befallen, engulfed he grew in a sea of stupidity. Vengeful, manipulative & overdramatic. I swear this man had to be an energy addict. To Atlantic City we went. Not to gamble. Not for titty, but for a spiritual journey. I wondered at one point whether this man may eventually be in need of an attorney. His endless preaching to those around us to much I detested. His yearnings for social injustice & fairness did nothing more than just get us arrested.
Pressure from my father, venom from my brother. The rattlesnake's rattle. A claim from my father I wasn't
to be a very good role model. Don't cry don't be shy let me be a good host. My path begins with a cocky but humbled cuddle buddy sex post. Stretching my anus I wanted more & more. To enter through my backdoor, was to balance my core. This was my calling. It was a rising, not a falling. There was much to explore. Alas, alas, I was the
friendly neighborhood whore. Though one thing I noticed, I could not constitute. A whore I was to be, but not your typical prostitute. Each of the men I would bang, an inner conflict I noticed between my yin & their yang. The initial insertion was much to my satisfaction. But my hormones I begged them & I got no reaction. My muscles at ease. A release of rough tensions. Though I seemed to crave more so these glorified attentions. As happy as I was like a newly renewed boy. What made me happy most was to be treated as a modern sex toy. I was dominant in the bedroom. Not like a bride, but a groom. Shaving my legs & torso it did feel good. Like for a femboy in training it probably should. General requests I felt it ridiculous. Like a rum with a slice of lemon on the rocks, my orientation was just a little meticulous. For one man only, I did make an exception. I wore a thong for him solely, but not for conception. It was an alright fine adjustment made. The decision was mine, in an exchange to get paid. He was straight even. Not homo. He did not get nude. Oh no. I just didn't want be rude. To wrestle with me was his desire. I was at least a semi pro sex worker for hire. But it was always like that. On my pedestal I sat. Most men had no request for anal if I may. But for me insertion was fun, it was healing, it was just a little foreplay. Kissing, locking lips for me as well was highly satisfactory. Like giving life to my men in my professional mannequin factory. Onetime a client of mine & lover of feet. Invited a male whore from Europe for one I might meet. I advised against it. But he meant it. Sure enough, say no more, we wanted our client to leave us. Why not exit right through that front door.
One of the biggest thrills for me was the driving. Place to place. When order was up, it kept me thriving. My brother would work days, I'd work nights. At the very least it kept us from engaging in inexplicable fights. His job was mundane, like a nine to five. Mine though not quite as sane. Never been good at following the hive. But my men did thrive & as time went on, the deeper I'd dive. Like an active pro. Though I did not know. A shortness of breath
was where all of this would go. I can just about recall them all. The dicks of the men, no matter how small. I had no-pay men from my past on the side, as well. How those sessions would even last I wonder. It was those men that would give me the most amount of hell. Like they were under a spell, & from what I could tell. With my clients, a similar trend. No... it was not to amend. I was their go-to male for their sexual therapy. No overtime pay. Just an act of "take care of me". Exhausting it was. & still in search of my true buzz I was. I disbanded. Between juggling clients & scheduling conflicts, my empire, it was all reprimanded. An invite from a married man to an all-male orgy spa was my last horrah. Steaming sex, such a tightly packed aroma of sausage complex. It was there I blew two men. The host, & a tranny in the main room den. But I digress, it was much to my surprise. I derived the most joy, from the gripping of those nylon femboy thighs.
A year later my boy, it was now a witch season. A brother & bag of witches. Just a suture stitch. Not a fag for no reason. Time approached for my spirit to finally embark on some tail. A good witch, a daughter, a bad witch, an angel & android female. Never I'd kneel down upon my knee. But it was astral sex that was needed to be. A sex in the astral realm to set these women free. A good fortune I spent as an alpha male you see. For the bad witch unlocking the secret safe was a key. Swiftly yet furthermore. I encountered the good witch no better than the bad one once before. The good fortune I'd spent in the bad witch vicinity. My brother in blood had just lost his venom virginity. Blood was shed. For the expenses paid. Far more than the cost for any of my men to get laid. But for now it was in this filth I stayed. No matter what sacrifice of self I had previously made. All year the good witch & I had fought. Romance or business babe. Don't know. It was just some food for thought. A swarming sea of estrogen in those power of three. The good witch, the daughter & angel. It was alone I must be. The closer they came. The more fantastic. Like a bomb went off. A destruction of plastic. One did prevail. As I'd sail. Ahoy my boy, it be the android female. We touched. We made contact. Then parted ways like a yinyang mantis-metal contract.
Witch season was over. Some counseling I needed. Like a mental-mind makeover, from this I retreated. The angel showed up again. Like not a chicken but a mother hen. With ripples & heavy sighs. Without nipples. No excessive
lies. To lose my venom virginity, one chance I had left. Oh please all-mighty let it be a good, clean theft. Show me why I am to be this way & all it's containing. So tired I have come of just all this complaining. A sex club I had joined & for much I adored. A bisexual folk, some hope was restored. The woman had spread her legs to show her genitalia. My what a perfect energy to connect to, with but a climax of melancholia. Her spine was my own though, I did not mind. It was the organ she played that was not my own kind. A male I was like tripping on acid. Ejaculation occurred. It was while I was still flaccid. The man I was with, he saw. The threesome gift had fallen. A present just a little too raw. Relieved I was for this enlightenment, closure. For years I'd been waiting for this indecent exposure. My development precision I should be aware. For a love without condition, for that I may care. With now my vehicle broken down, I do walk everywhere. With not a nickle or dime to pay for cab fare.
Alone I live in my big house shack. Never noticed the shades of my streets, that's a fact. An old lady "A" sees me mowing my lawn. She knocks at my door one day cuz her husband is dead & gone. As a king & queen once together, I don't know whether. His wife he had until once after casual dinner. A life he took, a gun to the head, he is dead. & to his wife, he's a sinner. He haunts the place & she ignores. It's the floors, she may have kept them clean. Not a life coach she is. She has become nothing yet but a spoiled queen. Her sex is, & my best guess is, how ironic. The relationship I hope she desires to have with me be nothing more than platonic.
My path too & from home. It is being saturated with beer bottles & soda cans. Public displays of misdirection affecting my affections. True I'm on break these months, I get paid not in cash. These beer bottles & soda cans only slightly resemble my cigarette ash. Shedding my past as dawn approaches night after night these days. Been getting maybe just a little tired of these vintage old-school plays. Invite from an old woman "M" tonight for dinner. A winner but tomorrow I might, just might do something for the better. Thank you Mother for the weather. It's been great, not the typical Winter. Not the common 3-month cold season splinter. Just now a man approaches me. A worker bee. He tells me he's been falling apart from a prescription d**g. Dragging ass. Tomorrow I think I should too & from home begin bagging these beer bottles & soda cans fast. Don't forget it's butt I like most. Don't forget it's like me, a clean butt I like compost. Not the competitive sports of my youth, insisted I play. Prancing like a fairy with short-shorts, I must dismay. As an empathic alpha, with a subby twink to please. It should be enough to at least put my mind at ease.
Kaylin
- 10.08.2020
- 29
- 0
So You Can t Write Dialogue George Eliot
- 3 years ago
- 45
- 0
Dialogues George Eliot
- 4 years ago
- 31
- 0
