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Supposed Shorts

 

The late afternoon sun cut across the cafe

In sharp points that stretched the shadows

Of chairs on the floor, illuminating, for a moment

The smooth legs of the woman wearing shorts

So short, one could swear she was wearing a long

Shirt and nothing else. Hidden behind a fireplace

He stared and stared, free from the fear of

Discovery. As the sun faded, sliding up her calves

To her knee, he imagined his hands moved on

Her skin. Sliding up, up to where her thighs met

Her supposed shorts. He panted. Wanting so

Badly for her to uncross her legs and show him

What lay between. He rushed to the restroom,

Imagining the feel of her smooth thighs wrapped

Around him as he pressed her against the wall,

Thrusting, thrusting, thrusting to a rapid release.

Throaty Breath

My balled fist slams on the table with every shallow excruciating push inside you.

I need you too bad to be gentle and you need me too bad to wait so I push, slam, and retreat until that pulsing moment my dick is slicked.

Sliding to your base, I let go.

And the room fills with your throaty breath.

Coffee and Cunnilingus

Sitting on my beard,

She wakes me and makes me lick

Her clit until roused.

Sucking juicy kisses while

Wafting coffee brews downstairs.

Wet Lips Sizzle

Your hair feels good, wrapped
Around my fist, as I suck
Your tender, arched neck.
Wet lips sizzle on your skin,
Already too hot to touch.

She’s Hungry

Goddamn!

When you speak those fucking filthy words

I need to suck that wicked tongue

Then push you to your knees

Where my rigid cock is ready to fill your throat.

A Cool Breeze

The rain starts in spits but soon settles in with the soft spill sound of shelled corn filling a silo. Sometimes we get a little wet but we don’t mind, sitting close to the window so the breeze can cool our skin. We’ve got books to read as we rest but I’m surveying the lands I’ve traversed. Starting at your clavicle, my gaze slips between your mounded breasts, to the rolling plain of your belly.  I slide my palm across your navel, then up to hold your breast. You look up from your book with eyes softened by love. You kiss me. I am struck by its tenderness. I open my eyes. You are smiling sweetly at my mouth. You return to your book and I to mine, sitting in the cool breeze of an open window.

Let It Be Me

Ray LaMontagne is singing real soft through that old speaker. Sounds like he’s stuck in a tin box but I don’t mind. I got you in my arms and you got me and we’re swaying to the tune. Sipping tea from a sweaty jelly jar. Rubbing our bellies together and whatever else needs a turn. We sway, sweating a bit on the screened porch. The crickets and the tree frogs, they howl, but I don’t hear it. I got your breath in my ear and your breasts pressed against me. And we sway, and we sway, kissing with lips made of tenderness.

A Warm Embrace

I woke hard.
The skin of my dick sticky against my bare thigh.
I dressed quickly in the dark then adding two hand fruits to my lunch sack, left the house.
The warm body scent of the passenger next to me on the bus reminded me of someone I struggle to forget.
I was too tired this morning to push away her memory, drifting in and out of dreams, squeezing my thighs together as my moist cock grew firm on my thigh.
She laid fragrant on my bare chest.
The scent of her hair, spicy in my nose.
I relished her warm embrace as I filled her, moist and deep.