Someone asked me what I was thinking and this post represents what happened next…

This is also Throat Punch Thursday! Ole!
So yeah, never ask me what I’m thinking.
This is a two-part post. The musical interlude above was part one. Part two is more ribald. It contains frank discussions of sexuality and may be too intense for some readers.
WARNING – I’m not kidding. Do not make the jump if you can’t handle a little adult stuff and humor. Did I mention I’m not kidding? Just cut your losses and move on. Nothing to see here.
You have been warned. (I’m not kidding.)
The Date (A romantic love story told in the form of a poem)
By Tom B. Taker
Please don’t vacate
Or prevaricate
Just wait
I’m in the mood to fornicate
And you’re my number one candidate
We must not hesitate
Or debate
Lest I have to masturbate
Lay down – I’ll appreciate
Legs open to facilitate
The way inside I’ll negotiate
No need for you to navigate
In my school of love you’re about to graduate
Hang on – I will initiate
I’m the man – I penetrate
Tingles for you while I jingle gyrate
Synced as one hips rotate
Our bodies sway and oscillate
Stay the fuck away from my prostate
A few seconds later it will culminate
Oops overeager – truncate
Precious spate of ejaculate
Good times I celebrate
Not good for you? That’s not your fate
Still it was quite passionate
It’s all about me and my inseminate
Now listen close this is my mandate
Your job is to abate germinate
It would be sad to terminate
There is no condom I couldn’t wait
Fingers crossed – no impregnate
We’re not here to procreate
That would be most unfortunate
I’m in a hurry to separate
A token hug to placate
A quick trip to urinate
But nothing else ’cause I’m feeling sedate
It’ll take about a day to recuperate
I’ll be back after I rejuvenate
Just stay right there and marinate
And try not to be obstinate
You sure were a hot teammate
You don’t feel well? – elaborate
Can’t be me ’cause I was great
It must be something you ate
Wow. I am such a gifted poet I was able to write this even without a single iota of it being autobiographical. Now that is what I call an active imagination! Hurry back the next time you want to know what I’m thinking.
Funny…this post sounds very familiar. Let me think, let me think. Ah, yes! Reminds me of my first date with The Mister…except he was the one who felt sick by the end of the night. π
You got some skillz here, boy. There are erotic poetry publications out there who’d pay big bucks for writing like this…enough for you to quit your day job…as long as you didn’t quit for like…more than a couple of days. π
Isn’t it amazing the kind of ideas you get while in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet, waiting for the movement…I mean, moment, when inspiration strikes.
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LOL! First date? TMI! π
The good news is I only have to make $1 day to be able to afford to quit my day job. Being grease trap dribblins’ at the bottom of the barrel can have its advantages.
Oh crap. Toilets. Grease traps. Now I’m in the mood to write another poem.
Speaking of the toilet, that’s also where I created my symphony. I call it “Movement For The Common Man.”
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My interest was piqued, so I peeked. And it was a peak experience! Thanks for the heads up on the content.
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I’m glad you did. I just hope I didn’t inadvertently shorten your life span.
Look at that. Five likes in 12 hours. That has got to be a record here in the Abyss. And to think I was worried about posting this.
I’m now recommending “Drops Of Jupiter” by Train as the musical accompaniment for this poem.
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Reblogged this on Shouts from the Abyss and commented:
Seriously? I asked for a random blog entry and the machine gave me this. True story! It may very be the finest piece of fiction I’ve ever written. Yeah, it’s totally fiction. I swear. WARNING β Iβm not kidding. Do not make the jump if you canβt handle a little ADULT stuff and humor. Did I mention Iβm not kidding? Just cut your losses and move on. Nothing to see here. This work deals with sensitive issues surrounding human sexuality and may be too “real” for a lot of folks. You have been warned.
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I didn’t know you were a shill for Viagra.
The only question I have is this:
What was the first “-ate” word you thought of that you decided to build a poem around?
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It’s been too long. So we can only speculate.
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Groooaaaannnnn
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Haha….love this.
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So you agree this represents my finest work? π
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It’s hard to articulate, but that statement I cannot debate. Now I will watch your ego inflate. π
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Wow. One simple line and you win. π
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Haha….on a Monday even!! Woo hoo!!
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