A few of weeks ago, I had a tryst with a Brazilian that was a long time coming. We met at the bar, The Cock in NYC. We would make out heavily, then part ways. I knew I wasn't inviting him back to my place, mainly because of the long train ride to get there. The other reason was because after cleaning up, by the time I would run into him again, my room went back to looking like a tornado ripped through it. So with him so often the aggressor, I left him to make a suggestion. However, none was ever made. One night, we even went as far as riding the train together. And when his stop turned out being before mine, I thought this might be the night....Yet, there was no invitation to accompany him. These run-ins of making out to only lead to kisses "goodbye" at the end of the night went on for probably over a year.
When I thought to tell the story of how this long lusting finally got unleashed, I was still in "poet mode" after I just completed my upcoming poem, "The Industry, Part 1: Traded Love", so instead of a long detailed story, it became a poem instead. This is actually me taking on something new, because my past erotic poems have been me telling tales of fantasies and ones only
inspired by actual events. This time, the event is not the inspiration for the story...
...This time, the event IS the story.
So I hope you enjoy reading and hearing me pop my cherry telling you a true erotic story through my poetry....
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When I thought to tell the story of how this long lusting finally got unleashed, I was still in "poet mode" after I just completed my upcoming poem, "The Industry, Part 1: Traded Love", so instead of a long detailed story, it became a poem instead. This is actually me taking on something new, because my past erotic poems have been me telling tales of fantasies and ones only inspired by actual events. This time, the event is not the inspiration for the story...
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