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Jet setting to San Francisco on an anonymous chartered flight.
Louis Roederer Cristal Champagne and a 6 carat canary diamond
were his promises to ignite.
There were other couture kickbacks like Givenchy and Coco Chanel.
Where sometimes we even stayed at the penthouse suite rendezvousing
under the sheets in the Fairmont Hotel.
Polished Baccarat crystal glimmered above the
gilded gold bathroom tub.
As I would be anointed in a sea of bubbles as his fingers seduced my back with a rub.
Supreme luxury of an entrepreneurial wallet became limitless.
Sex exchanged for his hired companionship was utter discreetness.
Flying back and forth to Brazil as elongated limbs soaked
up the inviting sun.
Wearing the latest fashioned string bikini as his anxious
hands untied dangling loose knots for fun.
Bathing naked in white diamond sands of heaven.
We would sleep in till’ 10:00 o’clock, or sometimes even until eleven.
Remembering those Paris midnight parties as I blew him
under the covered table.
Kneeling down with frivolous desire, my consumed warm mouth
was devouring his stable.
Ruttish requests always were popular as other gorgeous
women wanted to join in.
Debauchery at its finest as Playboy’s Miss November added
to our salacious sin.
Right out of the pages of a book, my novel is too
complicated for the cinematic direction.
For the men who wrote their promises over me, exchanged
my humanity for their erection.
A decade of this can put a woman in a class of her own.
However, my kingdom of opulence paid its devoted
price upon this jaded throne.
When you sell yourself out, and
time takes its precious toll.
Your humble purity is no longer whole.
So, now I no longer want him anymore.
Walking away of being man’s escorted whore.
In the paid rhythm of $3,400 each time.
Covered my personal expenses with financial rhyme.
In 5 days’ counting I would make seventeen thousand bucks.
With an ostentatious return of his body rewarding me with infinite fucks.
This new age Geisha girl pleased his tumultuous command.
Secrecy was vital for no one could possibly understand.
As my tender body was gagged and salaciously bound.
When his strong limbs forced himself into me like a racing hound.
There were moments when William’s touch was also tender with angelic compassion.
Without question, his devilish preference was to torture me in a Sadistic fashion.
No one got hurt.
As he showcased being a pervert.
But in the end, my soul is withered and quickly lost its identity.
Longing to be released to feel personal serenity.
So I’ve cut the cords and changed my private connection.
Because my heart hungers to reside in a more moral direction.
Forgiveness of self is not what I am looking to faithfully acquire.
Repenting my confessions are only for a priest’s desire.
Instead, I’ll just take a long soak in purified holy water.
Washing away the dried blood left on me from his fornicated slaughter.
There should be no judgment in what becomes of us in the end.
As this universe has a way of re-birthing your spiritual temple to amend.

 

Poem; whore 9:36 am 8.1.2016

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