To Love Oneself
On a sharp and tingly morning, Deidara sat on the side of the bed. It was Valentine's Day and he was all alone. His mouth ached in sorrow for the secret love that he could never share. How could he expect his right-hand to love someone with an equally seductive left-hand?
Roughly, he began to recite a poem he had composed. "Ah, my love is like a hot artistic nail polish, all on a summer's day. I wish my right-hand would lick me, in his own sexy way..."
"Do you?" Deidara's right-hand sat beside Deidara and put his mouth on Deidara's penis. "I think that could be arranged."
Deidara gasped sexily. "But what about my seductive left-hand?"
"I like it," Deidara's right-hand said quickly. "I think it's hard."
They came together and their kiss was like someone who had not felt true sexual release in years.
"I love you," Deidara said slowly.
"I love you too," Deidara's right-hand replied and fucked him.
They bought a bird, moved in together, and lived seductively ever after.