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It always sucked him
And it forever will
No matter who tethers it up
And soaks it in hot water
Letting the warm liquid cascade down
He will always hear the sound
The sound his mind goes crazy for
The noise that is captivating his sanity.
It whispers tickling the mans ear.
'I shouldn't' he moans softly, salvia rushing to his dry mouth.
The pleasures inside himself running through his body
His fingers uncurl from underneath his clenched fist
'drink me' the liquid taunts, speaking with absolutely no sound
Moving with no motion, wanting with no remorse.
The mans hand lazily reaches towards the speaking bottle
Trembling with fear and excitement. Excuses already seeding in his mind.
'drink me' it speaks again, the condensation refreshing and cool
The tired man reaches for liquid
And tightly wounds his fingers around the cold refreshing bottle
He lifts it up to his mouth to drink
the man remembers
He remembers that night
With screeching tires
'NO' he softly speaks to himself and to the bottle clenched in his hands
He calls to mind that poor young girl
Drenched in red blood
Crying for her mama
A mama that would never get there in time.
And would never see her baby again.
' NO' he speaks louder slamming the bottle down
His eyes tearing up from the memories.
He remembers that night.
But most importantly
He remembers it could have been prevented.
The tears slide from his face
He catches them with his red tongue
Savoring the salty taste as the terrible images rushed to his
'drink me' this time a sound of regret and sympathy
Was in the bottles voice.
'I beg of you' it pleads 'drink me'
The man full of sorrow and regret drank and drank and drank
Away that liquid until there was absolutely