love & leftovers

The Customer

Summary: You have a one night stand with Sam and his monster cock. 4,000 words of pure porn.

Word Count: 3,900ish

Warning: So much smut, Sam’s monster cock, a little bit of dom!Sam if you squint

A/N: Yeah. This is porn. Enjoy. XOXO

Yeah, yeah. You’re breaking all your rules tonight.

But can anyone blame you?

Look at him.

And sure, you have a very important rule about customers being a no-fly zone, and you tend to find one night stands more awkward that satisfying. But seriously.

Look. At. Him.

Even your coworkers have noticed, despite the fact that you haven’t mentioned him to anyone. They’re standing in the doorway of the kitchen, whispering as they ogle, waggling their eyebrows at you as you get him a glass of water.

You shake your head at them, not bothering to say anything because you know they won’t behave even if you do, and head back out to the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in real life.

Keep reading


Okay but you guys.  YOU GUYS

I washed my broken heart
with beach waves and sunsets.
I stitched my battle scars
with threads of leftover love.
I stood in a sea of strangers,
without hangover, whatsoever.

I am every invisible painting on your skin.
You wish they were from my lips and my fingertips.
I am the silence in your living room
You wish we could dance together
on thirty-second floor without music on.
I am those deep conversations
you wish you could have
from a stormy evening until sunny morning.

But you didn’t get it, did you?
Women like me don’t take weak men
Men who couldn’t handle their chaos
wouldn’t be able to handle ours.
Men who come back would
always be unwelcome.

I was the decision you didn’t make.
I was the war you didn’t fight for.
I am a place you can’t come home to.
There’s no point crawling back to me.

I’m over you.

—  Shaine Salcedo, The City Doesn’t Hum Your Name Anymore
at night, a bowl of almonds from your mother’s teacup,
the refrigerator humming. in the morning,
cold golumpki, straight from the tupperware.

tell me what’s so bad about leftovers?
everything comes from something.

i mean, honey, chocolate truffles, cappuccino milk,
me. is it time that is meaningless, or is it the weather?

i admire nature, this mountaintop, the way it rains here,
like god is crying, but god is not crying.

do you remember when the sun came up?
my legs were on your legs. i was wearing tights
because it was cold. i was wearing shorts
because it should’ve been warm.

that was the harvest of you loving me.

in some hemisphere, it must be spring.
in that place, we feast. in this place, we eat.