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.
Freaky Friday
That is what she called them
I called it my excursion into hell
this Friday she wanted to see porn
a tame and lame proposition
much safer than the norm
Imagining the fun we would have
Her full breasts and sweet legs in lingerie
Her mouth performing magic on my torso
unlocking the door to my apartment
I wondered if she had already arrived
Anxious for the festivities to begin
Entering the silent darkness
Don’t move a deep voice thundered
A cold metal pressed into my neck
Chills ran up my spine
I trembled like a wet dog in a storm
A gun sank into the softness of my cheek
Blood drained from my heart
One questioned frightened me more than the weapons
Did I arrive before my Devil Girl
Next week peeps
The Lonely Author 