My Broken Tights

Friday, January 07, 2011

Broken Tights

My broken tights.

I wasn’t ready for the action,

It took me by surprise. Opened my legs as I felt his fingers crawling

through my loins. Pressure, reaction.  

The sight of a young man sucking licking slowly my nipples, in joy.  He is at peace. He’s found a home.

Take me savage. Make me violent. Hear my roar of desire.

More, more.

 It only lasted a few hours. Three to be exact. I would have wanted a whole night.

A whole lifetime of pleasure, it’s so divine.

Constant interruptions, cell phones, alarms, regrets.

I regret none! I’ve wanted him for so long.

Ask me, where is your man? And I’ll tell thee, “He is not home, he is not with me. I want him far. Away from me.”

Enraged crowd don’t scoll me, for I believe I must stay true to the heart. To the feeling, to the pulse, to his fingers.

The crawly fingers that want more, deeper. The crawly fingers of a young man that find their way into the insides of a young woman.

Cheat! Cheat! I longed for the action.

Cheat! Cheat! Im cheating my heart, my pulse and my desire.

Blame me not for my hot adventure. Blame me yet for this constant neglection.

I shall blame my broken tights, peeping holes into my rosy wet lips.

Regret not. Not thee.