Gold Digger

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.