<\/a><\/p>\nThe Platonic Blow (A Day For A Lay)<\/b>
\nby W.H. Auden<\/p>\n
It was a spring day, a day, a day for a lay when the air
\nSmelled like a locker-room, a day to blow or get blown.
\nReturning from lunch I turned my corner and there
\nOn a near-by stoop I saw him standing alone.<\/p>\n
I glanced as I advanced. The clean white T-shirt outlined
\nA forceful torso, the light-blue denims divulged
\nMuch. I observed the snug curves where they hugged the behind,
\nI watched the crotch where the cloth intriguingly bulged.<\/p>\n
Our eyes met, I felt sick. My knees turned weak.
\nI couldn’t move. I didn’t know what to say.
\nIn a blur I heard words myself like a stranger speak.
\n“Will you come to my room?” Then a husky voice, “O.K.”<\/p>\n
I produced some beer and we talked. Like a little boy
\nHe told me his story. Present address next door.
\nHalf Polish half Irish The youngest. From Illinois.
\nProfession mechanic. Name Bud. Age twenty-four.<\/p>\n
He put down his glass and stretched his bare arms along
\nThe back of my sofa. The afternoon sunlight struck
\nThe blond hairs on the wrist near my head. His chin was strong,
\nHis mouth sucky. I could hardly believe my luck.<\/p>\n
And here he was sitting beside me, legs apart.
\nI could bear it no longer. I touched the inside of his thigh.
\nHis reply was to move closer. I trembled. My heart
\nThumped and jumped as my fingers went to his fly.<\/p>\n
I opened a gap in the flap. I went in there.
\nI sought for a slit in the gripper shorts that had charge
\nOf the basket I asked for. I came to warm flesh then to hair,
\nI went on. I found what I hoped. I groped. It was large.<\/p>\n
He responded to my fondling in a charming, disarming way:
\nWithout a word he unbuckled his belt while I felt
\nAnd lolled back, stretching his legs. His pants fell away.
\nCarefully drawing it out, I beheld what I held.<\/p>\n
The circumcised head was a work of mastercraft,
\nWith perfectly beveled rim of unusual weight
\nAnd the friendliest red. Even relaxed, the shaft
\nWas of noble dimensions with the wrinkles that indicate<\/p>\n
Singular powers of extension. For a second or two,
\nIt lay there inert then suddenly stirred in my hand,
\nThen paused as if frightened or doubtful of what to do,
\nAnd then with a violent jerk began to expand.<\/p>\n
By soundless bounds it extended and distended, by quick
\nGreat leaps it rose, it flushed, it rushed to its full size.
\nNearly nine inches long and three inches thick,
\nA royal column ineffably solemn and wise.<\/p>\n
I tested its length and strength with a manual squeeze,
\nI bunched my fingers and twirled them about the knob,
\nI stroked it from top to bottom. I got on my knees.
\nI lowered my head. I opened my mouth for the job.<\/p>\n
But he pushed me gently away. He bent down. He unlaced
\nHis shoes. He removed his socks. Stood up. Shed
\nHis pants altogether. Muscles in arms and waist
\nRippled as he whipped his T-shirt over his head.<\/p>\n
I scanned his tan, enjoyed the contrast of brown
\nTrunk against white shorts taut around small
\nHips. With a dig and a wriggle he peeled them down.
\nI tore off my clothes. He faced me smiling. I saw all.<\/p>\n
The gorgeous organ stood stiffly and straightly out
\nWith a slight flare upwards. At each beat of his heart it threw
\nAn odd little nod my way. From the slot of the spout
\nExuded a drop of transparent viscous goo.<\/p>\n
The lair of hair was fair, the grove of a young man,
\nA tangle of curls and whorls, luxuriant but couth.
\nExcept for a spur of golden hairs that fan
\nTo the neat navel, the rest of the belly was smooth.<\/p>\n
Well hung, slung from the fork of the muscular legs,
\nThe firm vase of his sperm, like a bulging pear,
\nCradling its handsome glands, two herculean eggs,
\nSwung as he came towards me, shameless, bare.<\/p>\n
We aligned mouths. We entwined. All act was clutch,
\nAll fact contact, the attack and the interlock
\nOf tongues, the charms of arms. I shook at the touch
\nOf his fresh flesh, I rocked at the shock of his cock.<\/p>\n
Straddling my legs a little I inserted his divine
\nPerson between and closed on it tight as I could.
\nThe upright warmth of his belly lay all along mine.
\nNude, glued together for a minute, we stood.<\/p>\n
I stroked the lobes of his ears, the back of his head
\nAnd the broad shoulders. I took bold hold of the compact
\nGlobes of his bottom. We tottered. He fell on the bed.
\nLips parted, eyes closed, he lay there, ripe for the act.<\/p>\n
Mad to be had, to be felt and smelled. My lips
\nExplored the adorable masculine tits. My eyes
\nAssessed the chest. I caressed the athletic hips
\nAnd the slim limbs. I approved the grooves of the thighs.<\/p>\n
I hugged, I snuggled into an armpit.
\nI sniffed the subtle whiff of its tuft. I lapped up the taste
\nOf its hot hollow. My fingers began to drift
\nOn a trek of inspection, a leisurely tour of the waist.<\/p>\n
Downward in narrowing circles they playfully strayed.
\nEncroached on his privates like poachers, approached the prick.
\nBut teasingly swerved, retreated from meeting. It betrayed
\nIts pleading need by a pretty imploring kick.<\/p>\n
“Shall I rim you?” I whispered. He shifted his limbs in assent,
\nTurned on his side and opened his legs, let me pass
\nTo the dark parts behind. I kissed as I went
\nThe great thick cord that ran back from his balls to his arse.<\/p>\n
Prying the buttocks aside, I nosed my way in
\nDown the shaggy slopes. I came to the puckered goal.
\nIt was quick to my licking. He pressed his crotch to my chin.
\nHis thighs squirmed as my tongue wormed in his hole.<\/p>\n
His sensations yearned for consummation. He untucked
\nHis legs and lay panting, hot as a teen-age boy.
\nNaked, enlarged, charged, aching to get sucked,
\nClawing the sheet, all his pores open to joy.<\/p>\n
I inspected his erection. I surveyed his parts with a stare
\nFrom scrotum level. Sighting along the underside
\nOf his cock, I looked through the forest of pubic hair
\nTo the range of the chest beyond rising lofty and wide.<\/p>\n
I admired the texture, the delicate wrinkles and the neat
\nSutures of the capacious bag. I adored the grace
\nOf the male genitalia. I raised the delicious meat
\nUp to my mouth, brought the face of its hard-on to my face.<\/p>\n
Slipping my lips round the Byzantine dome of the head,
\nWith the tip of my tongue I caressed the sensitive groove.
\nHe thrilled to the trill. “That’s lovely!” he hoarsely said.
\n“Go on! Go on!” Very slowly I started to move.<\/p>\n
Gently, intently, I slid to the massive base
\nOf his tower of power, paused there a moment down
\nIn the warm moist thicket, then began to retrace
\nInch by inch the smooth way to the throbbing crown.<\/p>\n
Indwelling excitements swelled at delights to come
\nAs I descended and ascended those thick distended walls.
\nI grasped his root between left forefinger and thumb
\nAnd with my right hand tickled his heavy voluminous balls.<\/p>\n
I plunged with a rhythmical lunge steady and slow,
\nAnd at every stroke made a corkscrew roll with my tongue.
\nHis soul reeled in the feeling. He whimpered, “Oh!”
\nAs I tongued and squeezed and rolled and tickled and swung.<\/p>\n
Then I pressed on the spot where the groin is joined to the cock,
\nSlipped a finger into his arse and massaged him from inside.
\nThe secret sluices of his juices began to unlock.
\nHe melted into what he felt. “O Jesus!” he cried.<\/p>\n
Waves of immeasurable pleasures mounted his member in quick
\nSpasms. I lay still in the notch of his crotch inhaling his sweat
\nHis ring convulsed round my finger. Into me, rich and thick,
\nHis hot spunk spouted in gouts, spurted in jet after jet.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Adam & Yves directed by: Peter De Rome (1974) Starring: Michael Hardwick and Marcus Giovanni, plus: Kirk Luna, Bill Young (aka Big Bill Eld), Jack Deveau, Daniel Montfort, Denise Royal, Jaap Penraat, and Charles Pooney; “in the bathroom” – Eric Crawford, Bob Jones, Luther LeVale, Tony Skinner, and Glenn Wilson. Original soundtrack by David Earnest, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[67,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-368","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-peter-de-rome","category-pornoclips"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bjland.ws\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/368","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bjland.ws\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bjland.ws\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bjland.ws\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bjland.ws\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=368"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.bjland.ws\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/368\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bjland.ws\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=368"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bjland.ws\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=368"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bjland.ws\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=368"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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