My Fuckbuddy is Getting Married
but over my dead body.
When the priest gets to the part where
he says, is there anyone here who thinks
these two should not be lawfully joined,
speak now or . . .
this is where I come crashing into the church
on a tank. Packing more heat than Clint Eastwood.
Machine guns on each arm fully loaded.
Grenades hang from my waist like ornaments.
Yeah, I have reasons why these two should
not be lawfully joined and I have Polaroids
to prove it. I will do the honors of lifting the veil
from the face of the bride.
Show her beloved husband's glossy ass sitting on my face.
A picture doesn't lie when it shows my cock being stuffed
down the gullet of my fuckbuddy's mouth.
Cock inserted between the groom's paper-pale asscheeks.
He kept yelling, give me that black dick.
He couldn't get enough of me as I fucked him
in a dark toilet at a recreational park.
My dick was lubed with shit, but he sucked it
right off. He said I don't care if I get AIDS.
And I didn't care about redheaded feces on my cock.
He promised next time that we would go to his
house and fuck like porn stars on the living-room floor
while his dad was at work.
He said he adored the sensation of my cock in his mouth
and has wanted these arms around him from the first day we met.
He might be your husband to be, but he's my fuckbuddy for life.
Said last night between the sheets of Prince Murat Hotel,
that he would never leave me. Admitted that he was bisexual
and even though he was into pussy, he liked me inside him
and not a damn thing could change that.
He might be yours, but remember that every time you kiss
him, you're tasting the sweet smegma from my dick on his lips.
Remember the very cock that explores your virginal vagina,
is the same cock jam packing my robust rump every other Tuesday.
He might be your husband, but he's my fuckbuddy boyfriend
in Friday night hotel beds,
in the stalls of closed recreational parks
on the kitchen table when you're working late at the office.