Skin Daddy

I’m at the foot of your bed, watching you as you dream.

My hands slipping in, my fingers spread existence wide open. They pick away at sweating sex. Always needing to taste, my mouth searches for yours in the darkness. My body on top, my teeth soon bite away. I’m a a bad machine, a demon on ecstasy. They call me Skin Daddy, my bones always hard. I’m a real good fuck, and I do as I please. I want no secrets, there’s no flesh that will be hidden from me. I wont allow it. Under my hand, your body is mine. Taking control, there’s nothing you can do to stop me. But then, you don’t want me to. You want me to fill you up. To possess you well and truly. There’s something in you, that needs to be silenced, that needs to be destroyed. Pushing myself in, I obliterate all. Flowered up and bleeding truth, my tongue makes patterns upon your breast. Sucking lovebites from within, you hate me for what I am. Yet you beg me to keep on doing it. You want me to do it all night long. And that’s what I do. Like a vampire. Bite, sex, bite. In each others arms, between your legs and licking tongues. My seed belongs in you, there’s no other place for it. In me, it burns my insides. It’s a poison that dissolves my sanity. But in you, it makes you feel alive. Clenched fists and fingernails in my back, I gaze at your open mouth and the way you don’t try to hide (what you feel inside).

This is what truth looks like.

They call me Skin Daddy. I’m obscure and vacant. I’m within and without. My flesh is absent, it’s a cage with no meaning. Beneath the glow of moonlight, my heart pumps oil to hardened bones. Hollow-eyed and vulgar, there’s nothing I won’t dream of doing. I’m an eater of innocence. A taker of what lies beneath.  Of tightened throats and whispered desires. Upon her ear, I speak in a language unknown. A sequence of symbols hushed into her tender little skull. When I do my thing, the flashing lights glare into her eyes. Those sweet eyes of wine. Of leaves from dead trees. On the ground with the ocean by our side, there’s a trapdoor I long to open. It’s a place of birth. A place with no lies. Stalking her outline, I draw it with chalk whilst she brings herself to climax. To taste one of several little deaths I’ve promised her, my gift so honest and true. In bright darkness, she cries as the electricity flows from her fingers to her toes. Placing my hand on her belly, the trapdoor opens and I marvel at the wonders on show.

Fragments of corneas. Slithers of light. Of angel dust and torn muscle. Exploding stars and pulsars. Monolithic, like the sighs of lovers long since passed. Humming like evil. Sharpened like knives and pouting. The way she pouts when I’m inside, it puts me in a rage. Boiling blood and dripping saliva, screaming at her touch. With her face turned away, she laughs as I implode. Shattering into a million pieces, the windows blow out revealing a landscape of ghosts and broken adolescence. On all fours, she turns her head and winks at me cutting my soul to shreds. Fading away like smoke and memory, I slip into the shadows leaving her to call out my name. Without reply, she eventually returns to a dreamless sleep never knowing the monster that jumped her bones.

Only I’ll be back tomorrow.

Stirring in the early hours, she’ll find me at the foot of the bed again watching eagerly. In the darkness with the moon a halo upon my head, a devilish grin will spread itself upon my lips as I wish myself inside of her once more.

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