how many men have died

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

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I knew.

I knew what I was getting into.

I told myself it didn’t matter.

Where did I find myself? That which there was no recovery.

I asked myself a few times down the road, “Why? Why?” I laugh at those that attempt this.

The headlights in my lane are coming headlong. I choose not to swerve. I choose, if nothing else, to accelerate.

After all, there is no avoiding what is coming. As I push the pedal I know this is wrong. It’s that thought looking over a cliff.

The feel though.


Water. Hydration. Life.


Foretelling impending doom. Asking for it. Knowing it. Being intimate. I’ve been that doom. But who gives a fuck? The feeling of curling a toe forward as I push towards The climax. The last climax. Why?


I let off. But it just doesn’t feel right. Finality feels right. Finality in the wrong.

So I resume. Why do I resume?

Because as I spread your thighs I know.

I’ve become intoxicated.

I ask myself.

How many men have died?

Submitted: June 04, 2021

© Copyright 2021 DRBernal. All rights reserved.

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