grass

The curtain swelled in the breeze, and the chugging chugging down below let into a pause, then another chug, and a whirr, and my peace was broken in the warm morning. The clock said ten a.m., which was impossible, I thought, the neighbors disturbing my morning so early, not so early, not the neighbors. It was you. You, tracing along the edge of hostas in the only shadows of a hot day, the tall grass lying in clumps as you circle my yard.

I am not supposed to be here, not now, not supposed to watch you bending to wipe your head with the bottom of that wet t-shirt. The grass has held the last days’ rain, now the sweet ancient scent of weeds, and summer, and the grass, small blades stuck to your calves and sockless ankles. Tea from the jug on the back porch, melting the ice as I pour it, and you look up. I didn’t bother to dress.

Grass rinses down the shower drain, soap smooth as I lather your chest, your tight back, familiar paths, the sliding mm, swell tightening, slick lather speeds my hand. I cannot help but grab you, you near bursting beneath the hot water, dirt rinsing from your neck, irresistible astringent, you Tarzan, I kiss your shoulders, your rough face, your tongue warm and soft while you pin me to the tiles, kick my legs open, the water beading in my hair, waiting, waiting, I gasp. You smile, and kiss my cheek, reach for two towels, hand me one.

You are silent as you bend to dry your feet, arousal on hold.

You are face down now, waiting for me this time, waiting for what? a whip? a kiss, a finger, my call, grass, delight, once, twice, three strikes, my, your red shoulders, the t-shirt, then when you will have gone, a ghost, a gift, a moment, a wait, a great desire, to sleep again.

early afternoon

I sense your excitement in the way your skin smells, the scent of your sweat and secretions, my own excitement all the more evident, as I wait. I am wet, as I always am, responding like an animal needing you when I know you need me. You say you want to take me to bed, and you do. I want you, too, not aware of how, what I want from you there, but you always wash up over me, overtake me, transform me, my element, my lust lights and catches flame. This time you have dropped your shorts onto the floor, your shirt now over your head, as you nudge me back onto the bed and reach up under my skirt to pull off my panties, toss the wet lace aside as you push my legs swiftly open, your face quickly buried in my mound, my full skirt pushed up and falling upon your head, quite a sight as I look down and see you there for as long as I can look, as long as your tongue has not yet teased me to the point that my head falls back, to the point that I lose myself, let you have me. You have me now, have me fully under your spell, under my own spell, under the spell of this lust and sweat and the power of it all. Lick me. I love it when you devour me, when you wear my cunt like a mask, taking it all in, all the sweet fucking lust you suck from deep within me. Do this. Do this until I can no longer stand to let you bring me countless times to the brink of climax, until I take your head in my hands and push you away, turn you over and climb on top of you, my hips straddling your face now as I try not to succumb to the violent urge to grind into you as you push my labia apart and bury your tongue deeper still, as I take the full length of your cock into my own greedy mouth. Oh, you are delicious as my mouth surrounds you, as I feel you throb deep in my throat, my own attention diverted as you push me back enough to suck hard on my clit, your finger wet and tempting my ass, then plunging in as I have now pushed my finger into you. I feel you sigh, and groan. I sigh, and groan. It is a frustration, a temptation, a game to excite you and let you excite me, but at last impossible to have your cock deep in my throat and not want it buried now in my cunt, my hot wanting cunt.

It is early now, so fuck me. Fuck me now, let me have you, have this, have all the come that you have saved in moments of mindless afternoon lust, in moments when you could not have me. Fill me with this, let me ride you, let me come. Then rest, my sweet, in all the sweetness of the afternoon, in the warm sun, in the laziness of Saturday and summer. Sleep, for now, then come back, come back soon.