What Art Can Learn From Porn
Location
Beautiful, strung up in the center
of the room, leather caressing his wrists
pulled tight like the blindfold
pressed against his eyes. The centerpiece
of a mouthwatering feast.
Suspended,
on his toes,
metal bar between his legs
to keep him spread
and exposed, vulnerable.
Excited.
Red rubber fills his mouth,
presses down on his tongue,
jaw aching, chin
shiny and wet with spit.
The host arrives
silently, pressed suit, paisley tie.
Dressed to kill with hunger
in his eyes. A predator
lurking behind mahogany eyes.
His hand slips into sweat darkened
curls, gently at first,
only to tug, baring his throat,
lips descending to brush against
a bulging tendon, teeth baring
nipping at the pulse
beating wildly.
At his mercy.
The other squirms, bound, helpless.
He tastes like salt
and sounds like desperation
as he whimpers, begging for release,
and his lover almost wants to give it to him.