Woman

A free form poem, half fantasy and half memory, about a woman experiencing her familiar lover in a new way.

She runs her hand
Across her lover’s ribs
The smooth skin both familiar and
New.

Need and curiosity driving her
She pushes the clinging shirt
Up and off.

A curtain of hair
Spills
Across almost slender shoulders.
Parts
To reveal small satin cups
Filled with nothing but cotton socks
And vulnerability.

Unsure of their welcome
Fingertips turn upward
Skimming smooth cloth.
Eager to explore
Afraid to offend.

Unaware of their own display
Eyebrows turn upward
At the unexpected reaction.
A bit lip
A clenched hand in her hair
A subtle arch of the back
Pressing her lover’s desires into her palm.

Confusion halts her progress.
What now?
How can she bring pleasure
When there is
No flesh to please?

Please, please
Her lover’s eyes beg.
Please don’t stop.
Don’t break the spell.
Stay here with me.
Please don’t go back to him.

Her heart answers
Softly
Firmly
Replacing the body’s reality
With one of
Imagined sensations.

A tug on the hem and
Her shirt joins its mate
Forgotten on the floor.

She becomes her lover’s mirror.
Her fingertips become bold.
Caresses she never thought she could return
She gives with fevered joy.

Cotton becomes flesh with a twist of the mind.

Flesh become fire with the abandonment of hesitation.

Lips and tongue and teeth
Meet and devour.
Part
To compete with the hands’ right to roam
To Touch
To leave a trail of fire
In their wake.

Shivers of exposed skin

Salt and musk an rapid heart beats

A breath
A breather
A smile of recognition.

The rediscovery
Of the one she knows.
Not lost
But found here and there
In this new form.

She knows what comes
Next.
Now.

Down, down
Her hand travels.
Teasing
The muscles of her lover’s belly
Into flutters
Eliciting a throaty chuckle.
A gasp and a giggle
Join the party
As her lover returns the favor.

Down, down
Her hand travels.
Closer to
Closer to…

Two layers of cloth
Separate them both
From routine.

Watching her lover’s eyes watching hers
She gathers the first.
Revealing
An ankle
A smooth calf
An untouched thigh.

Up, up
The sheer linen travels
Finally revealing
The second layer.

And sudden avoidance.

Fingertips change to nails
Leaving the soft pink lines
Of a love note
On the now touched thigh.
A gentle reminder of her desire.
An insistent request for guidance.

The lesson comes as a demonstration.

Button undone.
Zipper open.
Jeans pushed down.

Her lover’s hand on
Hot, wet cotton.
“Touch me here.
Like I touch you.”

A hiss of breath
As she cups silk
Filled with too much flesh.

A hiss of breath
As her lover moves aside the separation
And slowly fills her expecting flesh.

Hands now move
Without traveling.
Fingertips piston
In and out
Of cotton clad wetness.
And with a twist of the mind
In and out
Of silk clad, as well.

Her lover’s lips meet hers
Jaws opening wide
Tongues meeting
Frantic
Mating
In the slick heat
Of their joined mouths.

Tensions builds
Breath becomes scarce
She pulls up for air

Recognizing
The storm in her lover’s eyes
As the one gathering in her own
Belly
She places her lips against
Her lover’s ear
And whispers the words
She knows will
Bring on the
Thunder.

Four little words
She has never spoken
Aloud
Until now.

“I love you.
Woman.”

A sharp breath in

The torn moan of her lover’s orgasm

A hard, sharp
Explosion of pleasure

Again

And again.

With a sigh of
Contentment and longing
She opens her eyes

And sees her lover.
Seeing her.

“I love you, too.”
The smile is shy.
“Woman.”
The words are true.