I Do NOT Love Dick

For my first post back from vacation, I was originally planning to give a quick re-cap of things and perhaps delve into a hot happening or two.  Instead, I feel the need to share a poem I wrote over the weekend about a long lost flame from my college days.

The other day an ugly brute
Sneered, then called me, "Faggot"
Cupping at his package
He thought I'd pay him homage
When I did not move, rooted in my place
His meaty hand clasped round my neck
Tried to force me down
Moving face to mine, he spat with all contempt
"I know that you're a faggot
I see it in your eyes
Faggot is what faggot loves
All of you the same
Faggots all love Dick
Git down; give me a lick"

I looked into his eyes
Saw nothing there of interest
Pussy is what pussy gets, had no claws in me
Cat without my tongue, I could surely speak
"Sorry, but I don't love Dick;
It's really not my thing

I do not love the way Dick smells

I do not love the way Dick tastes

I do not love the way Dick feels;

So slippery when it's wet"

I said this with my straightest face;

For I would never lie

"Dick is dick, and nothing more

Without a face or care"

This brute, he was a Dick

For him, I had no love

But if he'd said the same of Man;

A man who is worth knowing

I'd have to change my story, quick

For I LOVE the way Man smells

I LOVE the way Man tastes

And sure as shit comes tumbling down

Kerplunk, kerplop, kerploop

I love, Love, LOVE the way Man feels 

So slippery when he's wet

Deeper, harder, reaching far

Ever tapping at my core

Heats me from the inside out

Cum spurts to the fore

Locked together, eye to eye
I saw a bit of glimmer;
Sparkling dark to light
Softened as he hardened
He grew from brute to man
Slapped with realization
That he was faggot too
A mouth was not just any mouth
He yearned it's touch be male
Unwilling to be a means,
to his frothy end
I, his deep desire;
Compelled him ever near
Closing eyes, he took the plunge
Reached out for my lips
Took him full inside me
Intertwined his soul with mine
Striking whilst the griddle's hot;
(That's what us faggots do)
Gently pushed him to his knees
Introduced him to my Dick

So the story went
Like any love affair
We grappled with our pants down low
Cocks out thick and thorny
We fucked until the cows came home
Mooed our act disgusting
Before I even had a chance
To wrap my self about him;
Shielding 'way their angst
The brute was back with thicker skin
Facade a perfect fit
Lost to me forever
Was the man behind the brute
Who stood before his woman
Line toed tight to hearth
                                                                 RafaDe

He was straight, dumped by my ever fickle twin sister and drunk/horny to beat the bear.  Coming over, looking for Ang, he found me at home instead.  He didn't like "fags", and 'though not many knew of my sexuality at that time, dating my sister gave him a certain bit of inside scoop.  At first he started saying some pretty nasty shit to me, and I was about to throw his drunk ass right out the door.  As we stared each other down, things started to get a little physical, and I found myself in a situation where he was trying to push me to my knees and we both were sporting a bit of blood.  I hated to admit it, but grappling with this asshole (who I happened to find super cute) was producing major wood action.  Regardless,  I stood my ground, standing  tall and strong, unwilling to let him put me in any sort of vulnerable position.  Each trying to out stare/out maneuver the other, we eventually met in the middle; each of our lips touching that of the other's.

For almost three months, we fooled around, and, with time, he opened up about his hidden desires and his fear of actually being gay.  Not much further ahead than him, I could totally relate.  I'd already had a couple failed attempts at riding the straight train, and had only recently admitted to myself that I needed to come out; that I could no longer push down my feelings for wanting to be with a guy.  Slowly things were starting to mesh for him, and each time we were together, parts of his wall would come down.  Still hidden, still somewhat uncomfortable after fruition, but always a little bit better.  That is until the one fateful day, sweet sis came home unexpectedly to find us nekked with our cocks out and our throats full.  Bad on many levels (I still think Ang harbors a bit of hate against me for blowing an ex boyfriend), but, overall,  worse for my "friend".  I never spoke to him again.  I'd see him around campus, but there was only rage and hate in his eyes.  I never ventured forth to try and make amends.

Life goes on, right?  Well, for me it does.  Nothing's perfect, I have good days and bad, just like everyone, right?  Well, everyone but my lost flame.  Through the grapevine, I've learned that while I was on vacation, he was killed in a car accident.  I don't know many details, but I can't help but be saddened for what he could have been.  Too young to die and once past his rough exterior, he was a sweet, smart, funny guy that happened to have more baggage than an mule with a 2x4 shoved up its ass for good measure.

Since, I've had plenty of relationships, but through everything, he's always been special to me.  There was something about the way we frolicked about that gets me warm just thinking about him.  For all his cocky manliness (so hot...), he had such a soft, questioning touch, that I will never forget.  I can only hope he died with peace in his heart and love in his spirit.

Wishing everyone safe, happy and full of life's sweet breath--

Rafa