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Hot Cuban Stud i admit the first time i saw you i wanted to give you head. i had heard of you through friends and those who loved you for the novels and your 100 watt personality. i wanted you the most as i sat there listening to poetry about the Sunday of red and green lights. when you spoke of hemorrhoids i developed a hard-on great enough to break the windows of glass houses. when you spoke about stretch marks, i nearly shot my load like a girl having her period for the first time. but unfortunately you have a wife and kids and i can't share this poem with you. i admit it was me that stole your picture from the door of your office and if i was at your house, i'd bathe naked in a tub of tube socks. i'd put your underwear on my head in order to feel a little bit closer to you. i would twirl like a ballerina into your bathroom holding up cans of shaving cream your hands have held. i'll eat your porridge and sleep in the bed you jack off in when your wife's asleep on the sofa after a bad fight. i admit i wanted to fuck you when i realized how pink your nipples must be beneath the T-shirt i so long to be. it was me that ripped off the book review article of You Come Singing. and i'm using it as a cum towel each and every time i fantasize of you slaving naked over a hot stove cooking me fried chicken. i love the way sweat swerves down your back into the Chicano crack of your ass. i'd like to see how your legs would look hiked above my shoulders. if i gave you head would you know it was me? if i hid under your desk and spanish calender and helped myself to your ass, eating all i could eat, would you make a fuss that it was another man's face? 'cause i don't think wives are into eating the ass of their husbands.
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