The Magic of Christmas

On Christmas Day I wake in tears
An empty space beside me
To knowing of another’s joy
At being where I should be

I hate the bastard, wish him dead,
For faithless treachery
For making me alone today
No friends, no family

I head downstairs in search of food
Or just a cup of tea
I watch the TV blearily
Then suddenly I see

A present there where none was left
Beneath the Christmas tree
A little cube of cherry wood
The label says, ‘For Me!’

I didn’t leave a present there
It’s quite extraordinary
It’s also slightly sinister
I check my territory

There’s no one else inside the house
There’s no one here with me
Yes, all alone on Christmas Day…
Whatever could this be?

I peel the silver ribbon off
And open carefully…
Inside is something ugly, yet
It’s also heavenly

In cotton wool it’s packed with care
I lift it out to see
A little, wrinkled cock and balls
I’m filled with sudden glee

I know this sultry equipage
It once belonged to me
The bastard who once wore it proud
Will find it hard to pee

I hold my present in my hands
In happy memory
Then almost drop it! Dear-oh-dear!
It twitches slimily

The creature wakes and lifts its head
And glares myopically
Soon the monster’s fully hard
And throbbing lustfully

I do not understand this strange
Erotic sorcery
But will this marvel keep concealed,
This wondrous devilry

It feels so warm and powerful
I feel its love for me
I kiss it gently, stroke the balls,
It tries to wriggle free

I laugh and hold it tighter still
And suck seductively
I drink its sweet-yet-salty tears
While laughing merrily

This living dildo’s mine to use,
And use to pleasure me
While keeping tight my grip, I strip
There’s no one here to see

I press it to my pussy lips
But hold it teasingly
And when I let the hard length go
It slips in eagerly

So deep within it thrusts its way
It fills me painfully
So wet am I it glides with ease,
Attacks remorselessly

Again, again, it plunges in
I’m screaming joyfully
Orgasmic wonder wipes me out
The cock works hungrily

I phone the bastard, get the bitch,
She never speaks to me,
And in the background, distant moans,
I hear his ecstasy

‘There’s no hard feelings here,’ I lie,
Just as he comes in me
‘A Very Merry Christmas Day!’
At least it is for me…

About Frank

A Sci-Fi & Fantasy author and lyrical poet with a mild obsession for vampires, succubi, goddesses and Supergirl.
This entry was posted in Poem and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Magic of Christmas

  1. A most wonderful vengeful write…

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