If I could go back in time, I would do it all differently,
throw her down on the counter where she sliced and diced vegetables for meal
neither of us wanted, throwing her down yanking off her clothes, to devour the
meal we both expected to have, sliding into her the way I might have slipped
into home base, not satisfied with just getting the first or second or third
base, needing to smear her over like hot oil, needing to drink her up, every
ounce of what she has in her bread drawer, no slicing or dicing, no vegetables,
just pure meat, pounded until tender, she's screaming for more with each beat,
there on the counter, the vegetables scattered and crushed under us, again and
again and again, without end
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