Clam Bashing [poem] by Paul Tristram


It was wonderful to watch.
Legs snaking each other,
female tongues licking
and lapping female lips.
Fingers flexing and circling.
Instinctively knowing,
commanding, feeding
and stoking the fires
of passionate desire.
Moan echoed moan echoed moan.
A double image of beauty
fucking itself wildly
into a tempest before me.
I stood up out of the chair
and half circled the bed.
Then entered the arena
with every cylinder molten.

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