i thought you might like to have me stoned.

…it takes the edge off for me you know – like a brake eased off its drum
(naked, no covering, that’s our rule)
I wrapped a chord up and over your shaft and then bind it in loops… a web fixing you in just the right pose; the picture you gave to me.
Flat chest bound, elbows together behind, and you bow to my marble slab, my final task to raise your ankles.
(My woven gift nets its taunted prize.)
Your ankles are up now and bound together, lashed to your wrists, extending the chord that aligns your tension.
I work my way softly, greasily into the V.
Engorged, I split you apart; my hips intrude, armoured now with silicone wand ramping deep inside your territorial back waters
…and I see you break apart in shuddering rage before me, senses sinking beneath the waves. Your crown lost in this intimate act of conspirators.
(My empty rod denies)
I can’t believe how my whole world shatters when your fingers finally find my full-weeping flesh.

You might be
just like me