fuel pump

swallow your pride and set the table.
**
there had been a fight.
an argument.
a messy little snit.
**
just swallow your pride and set the table.
**
he didn't want to set the table.
it wasn't his turn.
it was his sister's turn.
but somehow she had batted her eyelashes
and gotten out of setting the goddamn table.
**
so, after the argument,
he had set the table,
sexy big-dicked teenage boy
who had a strong sense of justice,
a vivid sense or right and wrong.
nonetheless, the sexy big-dicked teenage boy
had in fact set the goddamn table.
**
so,
now the table was set,
and now
the sexy big-dicked teenage boy
was naked,
in the bathroom,
masturbating.
he was tugging rough and mean and harsh
on his big hard dick,
and   
he was still mad, still
angry. he had set the goddamn
table and it wasn't his turn.
he had set the goddamn table
and it wasn't his turn.
(tug)
damn.
(tug)
damn.
(tug)
damn.
(tug)
and suddenly the absolute
best gooey messy sloppy
all-nerve-endings-firing-like-dynamite-
all-at-once
hit, and
he spurted what felt like a gallon
of hot slimy gooey cum into the
bathtub.
god.
good orgasm!
really good.
he was still mad, too.
this emotion, and the really
great orgasm, seemed to go
together.
hmmmmmm.
so noted.
hmmmmmmmmmmm.
**
he turned on the water and
washed the cum down the bathtub drain.
**
hmmmmmm.
**
life goes on.


--Carl Miller Daniels (August 10, 2012)