High

The tree is the root of my evil but it stems from the seed of my own stress. I get high. My fingertips are burning and I don't even feel it. I smoke the tree to keep me in the forest; shunned from the big city lights of life. I'm wearing a thick coat of bullshit to protect me from the gelidity of reality. I'm rocking the jeans sewn together by the beautiful hands of Trend. I'm wearing my patent leather Pradas just to see you look at them and wish you had 'em. I'm sitting next to a princess who wears a weave as her crown. Of course my African goddess is light-skin. She smells like my wants and I want to smell like her. Still, my urges remain subtle. My dick whispers to hormones the things I should do to her but my brain doesn't get the message. She starts nibbling on my ear; enabling me to hear my genitals loud and clear. They scream--"LET'S FUCK HER!". My brain relays some redundant unnecessary instructions to my hands, but they are two steps ahead. I'm taking her jeans off as she shimmies her shirt over her crown. I press my lips against hers. My black ones to her pink. They tasted like strawberries. We're a good couple; we're the rare combination of up to something and good for nothing. I put the joint down to focus all my attention to the addiction I was born with--the pussy. I lay my hands on her, caressing the curves of her body. She lays her hands on me, caressing the curves of my soul. She is the moment and I'm trying to live in it. I put myself inside her. Her eyes roll back as I push in deeper. I feel it too. She's taking me to a new high; she makes the tree look like a bush. She closes her eyes and moans. I reach across her to the nightstand to pick up the joint. I push in deeper; going in circles now{small ones to big ones}--something i picked up off a porno. I take another hit and put it down. I moan. She moans again; louder this time.