sandpaper quilts

"when navigating the road of life,"
thinks the sexy big-dicked college boy,
"be sure and make time to have plenty
of orgasms." the sexy big-dicked college boy
is on the track team, cross-country,
and as he runs along a narrow footpath
in the middle of the woods, his dick bulges
pleasurably against the pouch
of his jockstrap, and pushes
out the front of his paper-thin
shorts. the sexy big-dicked college boy
is all alone, no one is nearby,
and he thinks of the orgasm he
just had this morning, when
he woke up hard as a rock and jerked off
into his pajama bottoms.
"that was a good orgasm," thinks
the sexy big-dicked college boy.
"and i want lots of those --
big gushy sloppy messy
orgasms where i spurt gallons and
gallons of hot smelly
gooey cum."
the sexy big-dicked college boy
continues running on the narrow
path through the woods,
his dick bulging into the
pouch of his jockstrap,
the front of his tiny
paper-thin little shorts
pushed forward. the birds
are singing, and butterflies
are fluttering about.
he considers stopping to
jerk off, but, then again,
he's got his rhythm going,
so on he goes,
running and running
and running.
**
when he gets back to the locker room
he's in the shower
with all those other beautiful
track team guys. these guys are
all so beautiful
he practically starts
crying.
he doesn't want to
want each and every one of
them like he does. he
wants something
pure, something
non-sexual. something
like friendship, which,
as always, eludes
him once again.
it's not that he's
standoffish. it's just that
he's, well, too "busy".
**
alone in his room
that night,
the sexy big-dicked college boy
who ran alone through the woods
jerks off four separate times,
each time spurting cum like
a swollen firehose.
there ought to be someone
he can talk to, have a
beer with, maybe.
but who?
when?
and
why?

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book String Bean, published by BareBackPress in 2018.)