Every man has that one unforgettable woman that will haunt him until his final day; the girl that got away. Allie detested television, vanilla ice cream, and missionary. She explored the depths of her sexuality; while I discovered the heights of my pain. My muse had a nickname. I called her Devil Girl. I write these words to ease my sorrows. My name is Andrew.
This is our story.
shirtless in Allie’s bed
Pandora kissed my broad chest
her hands undid my jeans
my desires slowly got the best of me
how could I be doing this?
Pandora freed me from my denim shackles
clutching me as if she won a proud trophy
she looked back at a dark corner
you didn’t warn me she sighed
a mischievous giggle escaped the darkness
reminding me Allie was there
before I could protest
a warm accomodating mouth devoured me
I moaned, trembled, stroked Pandora’s mane
pushed back on the bed my passions rose
fours hands and two mouths explored me
teasing, caressing, pleasing
Allie is this what you want?
she smiled and whispered
yes, I am your Devil Girl
I coupled with Pandora
hours later exhaustion got the best of me
resting between two sleeping sirens
voluptuous Pandora on my right
Allie in fetal position to my left
I recalled my Christian beliefs
what have you done to me Devil Girl
Happy Saturday. More next week.