Lights On

November 7, 2015

Lights On

It was a habit. She’d never considered it before.
“Why? I don’t know. Because if I leave it on you’ll see all my pudgy bits. And I don’t like the thought of all that squishy flesh in the light.”
“But I love all your bits, and I don’t think you’re pudgy. Anyway, if things aren’t squishing, you’re not doing it right.”
“I don’t think I could relax.”
His grin was very wide. “Oh, I can make you relax.”
“I don’t know…”
“Leave the light on. I want to see all of you.” He grinned again, “Please?”
Reluctantly, she moved from the switch. She stood there, reluctant, uncertain. He was already naked and he moved toward her like a predator.
“Relax, it’s okay. Just try it.”
She smiled, “You know you’re the first man I’ve ever met who would care. Why do you care?”
“I don’t want you to be ashamed of all this glorious beauty. This supple flesh, this BOUNTY!” He pulled her dress up over her head and fell to his knees, hugging her at the waist and pulling her into him. “Mmmm. This, I love it. Give me more.”
She laughed, uncomfortable. “Seriously, you like my pudge?”
He looked up at her, soulful, eyes already dilated with desire. “You are not pudgy, you are goddess-shaped. I love goddesses.” He pulled himself up until he was standing before her again, his arousal evident. She laughed.
“You won’t even let me hate myself? Didn’t you realize hating our bodies is the national pastime for women? It’s practically a religion! Trainers at the gym are their evangelists! Seriously?”
“Come with me, woman, I want to worship you.” He led her to the bed and lay her down. “I am going to make you weep with joy, gorgeous, so put your tray tables in their fixed and upright position and fasten your seatbelt. This is going to be the best ride of your life.”
And it was.

Butterfly

May 29, 2013

Butterfly

I am tentative, unsure.
I hesistate.
Yet you, you know me
so well,
you sigh a moment,
and I whisper,
“You know
I get this way… this
is who I am.”
And you softly
smile.

Your hands on
my shoulders
are weights
at first.

And I shudder,
like that butterfly,
wings trembling,
ready to take flight.

But your smile is sure,
and you bend to
kiss softly
because you know
any harder caress
might excuse
my retreat.

And now, though
I’m still unsure,
your confidence
grows
and your lips
press mine, you
ease your tongue so
softly
I feel safe,
relax a tiny bit.

Your hands begin
to roam.
I sigh, breathe,
and soon I feel
the bed behind my knees,
urging me down, down
into a cloud of
comforter and warmth.

I fall.

It seems sudden,
I am bare
and befuddled by
sensation, and
momentarily
wonder how.

But now I am pinned
to the bed—
like a butterfly
pinned to a board—
by your tongue.

The warmth grows
until
a silent (amazing)
implosion
makes me forget
everything:
cares, worries.
Shyness.

And when we join
there is no more
hesitation.