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Last Love

A dark, misty haze settles over me, shrouding the light, as the pain slips away. I don't see you anymore, but I feel you with each repeated “touch.” Now that the pain has faded, you are a comfort. If I could, I would embrace the razor phallus that penetrates me; its slicing thrust reminds me of life. I know the last caress I feel will be your cold steel dildo; the last love I know will be your savage love of liquid flesh.

You brush against me, your erection on my thigh as you begin to grind it on me. I would touch you if I could, but I remain motionless, experiencing the length of your desire. I hear the metallic slide as your zipper travels tooth by tooth downward, opening to the tender flesh of you.

I squint my eyes as a shadow, long and curving plays over my mouth, its darkness teasing my lips, the light burning my eyes. A breath tastes your scent as it mingles with the metallic burn that steams from me. Your motion above me, your hand now sliding over soft skin, mimicking warmer folds, draws my gaze. Smaller than I expected (you normally wield larger weapons) I suppress a smile, not wanting to slow your rhythm. I see your hips begin to move and imagine that sensation on me, inside me.

I feel you on my lips now, my tongue tastes the salty sting trickling from your tip and I open my mouth to you. Gentle at first, I wrap my lips around the head, running my tongue underneath as you quickly move it in and out. Your shallow thrusts tease my mouth and I salivate, wetting you. I imagine your length, glistening in my spittle, dripping from my wet and I try to reach my hand up to you but fail.

My head rocks back, slamming the concrete as you sudden thrust hard and deep. I choke, my throat constricting as I gasp, fighting the urge to vomit. You withdraw, but before I recover you assail me again, driving your length into my throat. This time as you withdraw I cough, savagely twitching my body with the effort.

Mist fades to darkness, I see nothing, but each splashing thud reminds me that you will not leave me alone. The ringing in my ears is louder; I barely hear my gurgled breath as I breathe frothy red milkshakes of air. Your cock-song fades from me; its shrill melody is but a faint whisper, barely heard.

The motion is softer now, your thrusts less deep as I feel your hand slide on your shaft as the head enters my mouth. As I catch my breath, my tongue plays on your soft skin, darting over you as you penetrate and withdraw.

Funny, when I still felt pain, I counted your thrusts, it seemed important, but I’ve lost count in your ecstasy, drawn into your rhythm as you made love with your weapon. Your motion increases and I think I can hear your breath quicken. I feel the swelling in you, the building pressure as you plunge yourself in and out of my mouth.

A moan? Yes, I hear your moan, a deep guttural growl that seems to rumble from your balls, rising up your length and spilling out of your mouth in echoing clarity. Dare you speak? You don’t know my name, so I won’t splash from your lips, but you speak, you whisper something.

You’re close now, I feel it, that surge, the urgency, the pulsing flow of sensation that overtakes you, turning you liquid, liquid like me as I flow around you. Then you splash, the hot, thick fluid fills my mouth. I swallow, gag and swallow again. It burns my throat, but I continue, drinking each ounce you exude into me. Your hardness flags, your weapon droops as you withdraw from me.

I can see you want more but the rhythm fades now. Are you sated, or merely fatigued? How you'll ache in the morning. I can console myself in that, your pain my small revenge on you.

I don't feel you now! Are you leaving me? I need to feel you. Please touch me again. Splash me with your wet, red love. Twist the fist, break a rib, just let me know you're there. Damn you. Where are you? Don't leave me. Lonely... lonely... damn, damn, I hate you! I hate you! I love you. I dream of distance, a horizon, a sunrise and I awaken from my dream to darkness. Darkness, darkness, darkness... then light...

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