Spilt Vodkas

Her fake tan is rubbing off onto my jeans
helped on its way by countless spilt vodkas
this is no lipstick on the collar
sadly it’s just friendship

she’s crying that she’ll never be loved

that her drinking will kill her

that she’s going crazy

no different to any other girl on a Friday night
 
she’s already loved

but I’ll never make her spill vodkas

and that’s the drama she craves

all I can do is put my shot glass next to hers

rejection on a daily basis
even unsaid
is enough to kill a man’s soul

I tell her I have to go

she seems distressed

but it’s not borne from any longing desire

which is why I HAVE to go

and scrub the St Tropez from my denim.

End of a Friendship

Masculinity's breathing down my neck
no man wants to be a girl's best friend
only their best fuck
that's why I've cut our friendship
she can't acknowledge my y chromosome
this blindness makes me angry
makes a mockery of my arrogance
she's bawling in my face for answers
the drink always did loosen her emotions
I cut through my lust and turn vicious
blame all the shortcomings on her
the trust I once bestowed in her eyes has gone
replaced by fear and sorrow
she tries to hug me
but I've got to prove I'm a man
I push her away
smash my glass into the bar
the last vestiges of bourbon slip from the shards
trickle onto the dirty floor
and evaporate
just like our friendship.

Five Words that Kill

"No he's not my boyfriend"

she says yet again

to yet another stud

and the world around me is drowned out

by the thoughts of him fucking her.

Fucking those fucked up problems out of her head

for one night

and maybe the morning.

I try to take my mind off the inevitable nightmares

with a lapdance

but she's got nothing on her.

The only thing in common they have is:

No Touching.

The Curves

She sees me across the crowded pub.
BENNY! She screams.
I look over and my cock begins to harden
those curves
sweet Jesus!
Looking at them packed into that dress makes me think anything’s possible
she’s drunk
it brings out the best in her
the wildness makes those curves even more appealing
imagine trying to control them
holding those powerful thighs down
Heaven.
She puts her arm round me and I follow suit
my fingers grab hold of some fat under her armpit
it’s firm and enveloping
my cock can’t get any harder
I could do this for a living
Benny Roberts - professional curve handler.
She tells me she loves me
I tell her the same.
We approach the bar
I walk
she stumbles.
We hit the Jagermeisters
everything crap evaporates
work
money
prospects.
And then, with a peck on the cheek, she’s gone
to find someone who makes her feel a way I never can
and that’s how it’s always going to be.