fucking her pussy

by Jackson Warfield

after those three bottles of champagne at dinner
we wanted it so bad
that on the way back to her place
to pick up her room mate
we had to pull into a sign factory
off route 33
park in the shadows
and tear off each other’s clothes
“how bad do you wanna fuck my pussy?”
she whispered in my ear

I buried my face in her tits
and said, “pretty bad, babe. pretty bad!”
“but how bad? Tell me how bad
you wanna fuck my pussy!”

I jammed it into her and growled, “argghh!”
and she moaned and said, “ohhh!”

I squeezed her ass
and rocked her up and down
for all I was worth, which
at the time
was about $18 and some loose change
in the cup holder

after we finished up
we drove down to her place
got her room mate
and drove back into the little city night

now, nearly two months later
and our fling long past
I still can’t find the words to describe
how bad I’d wanted to fuck her pussy that night
and how bad I’d like to fuck her pussy again

playtime sermon

by Jackson Warfield

back when I was a little man
I’d sit on the floor in the kitchen
and play with my toys

around two in the afternoon
before heading off to work
my father would walk in

dump a spoonful of instant coffee
into a cup of cold water
mix it around a minute
slug it back and return the cup
to the counter

then he’d look over at me
stare a moment
and say, “Jack, you should learn
to enjoy suffering
because that’s all there is
in this world.”