Sunday, September 16, 2007

Oyster Liquor

My old girlfriend,
the one I was
craziest about,
used to love
fucking me
in the chops,
her balls
against the
back of
my throat.
The globs
of cum
felt like
winter snot
in my mouth,
but they tasted
like Chesapeake
Bay oysters as they
slid down my gullet.

by Gene Mahoney

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