Your fat wood

The ceiling stares at me

I’ll blink first, I always do

Tiny circles

Then back and forth

And you’ll feel me inside

As we rub on one another

Grinding hips

I’m taking a ride

You’re just along for it

Such fatwood…

A firestarter, indeed

I can’t stop

I’ll never stop

That whisper you spoke…?

It certainly Provoked

via Daily Prompt: Provoke

3 thoughts on “Your fat wood”

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