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Would you like to have a ringside seat?
For those moments she found to explore.
Winter light kissed limbs on crisp cotton sheets.
Clothes scattered in a trail from the door.

Would you watch in fixated captivity?
As she stroked and caressed her smooth curves,
Jaw clenched, Embracing passivity?
Each new touch a test to your nerves.

Would your fingers flex with the yearning?
As her gasps and needful moans persist.
To slake the desire you feel burning.
Watch the dance of her hands. Yet resist.

Would you wait, whilst she reached her height?
Lost, convulsing, fingers slick with her dew.
Panting, blushed, in disarray a lustful sight.
Now, describe for me, what would you do?

 

© Juliette Turrell

27th February 2018