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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
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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