Oiled Fingers

Whimpering, she writhes

When strong hand, he slides

Slick and slow and deep swirling, 

Spreading oil across tight skin

Pressing into stuck sinew

Too deep, she screams. 

The knot broken, she lay limp.

Eyelids like shades

Rolling down and up slowly

Oiled fingers draw glistening

Lines around her sides 

Cresting and receding upon her breasts

Like tendrilled waves, leaving shined lines

Running south like laced rivers

Oiled fingers meander

Merging in her moist coulee

Stirring a maelstrom in her warming waters.

8 thoughts on “Oiled Fingers

Leave a Reply to Eugene Noale Cancel reply