When I return
from the bathroom, I sit on his laps.
He seems lusty.
My hardened
nipples push through the sheer negligee
A minaret and a
spire that calls men to worship me.
When I left my
pussy was pulsating, swollen and dripping wet.
He whispers
quietly on my ear:
You smell nice. Your scent is sensual.
No, I want to say.
It’s sexual.
Jamie, ten
years my senior, talks dirtier:
I wanna feel that dripping wetness on my dick. My nipples brush his lips when
I move closer –
my pudenda throbs for your cock, cough
dough.
I move to the
couch opposite him and I let out a moan.
He is more
handsome than I can remember.
I press my open
knees closed. Sit like a girl, my
mother used to tell me.
I finger the
hole between my legs, slick glistening when I remove and suck it.
From his couch
he stares at me, eyes drooling.
My elongated clit
caresses the leather and I tremble –
I open my legs like
a well-oiled door,
Daring him to
show me the dollar bills and
Give me what I
wanted: DICK.
