Sexy Can I


Don’t be fooled by the dress when they dress to impress with skirts riding high and bras pressed to their chests

Find me the dame who dresses the same on Mondays and Fridays and plays her own game

Give me the kind with the soft setting lips that wets me with spit I then kiss to her tits

Show me that girl that on some days wears curls and on others buns up with high reaching high heels

Find me the eyes with the blue dipped in mine that rises and falls like a wave at night’s call

The hips which can bend first back then extend and the moan that I play in my head when with them

I want that girl who stands up and then twirls, takes to my hand and shows me to worlds –

Seldom have seen, few men can go, the place where you whisper I can come to know

Show me those thighs and the way that they rise when they plummet and bounce near my knees as I pounce and rock you too sway from the night to the day

Lend me your teeth and bite on my cheek as I wrap up your hair, twist it and stare from your eye to your ear to the short edge of square on your back when it’s turning inverting and rolling as you ask me to share

In your mouthful of ecstasy, of excite-filled bliss, of divulging your longing of pleasure’s best kiss. Suck on my finger, my hand at your side, be that good girl who in bed forgoes time

Press me your palms flush to my chest, bring near your nipples and I’ll lick to impress. Have at it baby, have at it with me, hold back that expression and savor loud screams

Push to me closer, ride with me harder, hands through my hair as you turn up the volume

Keep going baby, your pleasure is shared, as you reach that loud climax please be fearless to care

I’m turning you over, twisting you out, raising your leg taste your sweat in my mouth

Take in my push, feel this good feed, try not to yell but please feel free to scream

Keep getting closer, keep rolling high, I remember this evening when these sheets were still dry. Ride with my rhythm, your hands locked in mine, spin those eyes backwards with those loud bursting cries

Have at it my dearest, my best bedroom queen, thank you for cumming now get on your knees.

– Thomas M. Watt

Dear Pretty Girl

Dear pretty girl who keeps looking at me,

Please stop. I have a lot of work to do and quite frankly am in no way capable of sustaining any type of relationship now. I have no income and already ended a relationship in order to pursue this idea that I can actually write and publish a book and then turn that into a career as a book-writing person. Of course you are attractive, I’m quite certain every guy who sees you can agree on that. I’m also convinced my asking you out will be more a matter of, ‘Hmm… Okay, well see what happens’ to you, and a matter of great distraction to me. I cannot take these games anymore, I’m pretty sure each being has a certain level of contrasts given them from God, and in mixing this contrasts it dilutes the brightness one infuses into their artwork. Therefore, I need a reader much more than I need a girlfriend.

This raises the other difficulty I’ve had of late – every time I meet a new girl, I tell her I would like to be a writer, and then she says she would like to see what I’ve written, and then I send it, and then she never actually opens it. I understand women mostly enjoy making others feel good, and so I’m actually the one being foolish in thinking they actually want to read my book, when they factually just want to get to know me. The problem is, I don’t care about me nearly as much as they seem to, and I’m quite certain the book is much more entertaining. I’d rather read it then go to dinner any day of the week.

Well cute girl, you’ve succeeded in distracting me. Oh well, I don’t think men would ever get off the couch to do anything if it weren’t for the desire to impress beautiful women.


Thomas M. Watt (That guy who thinks you’re looking at him when you’re actually staring at the one over his shoulder)