Sitting
next to him, touching his arm, leaning in to talk
Letting
him feel the fullness of my breasts pushing into his arm.
My lashes
fluttering, butterfly kisses, catching my breath.
That
first kiss, looking out at the Brooklyn
Bridge.
The tiny
window with a big view.
I listen
to you breathe, pushing and pulling, a deep breath and you pull me close.
Satin
and saliva, a quick flick of your tongue, wetting your full, soft lips,
Opening
my mouth, my tongue, poised for play.
Every
new touch drives me higher.
Every
hair on my body bristles with pleasure.
Electric.
Standing on end. Falling to the bed.
Pulling
off my panties in one smooth wild stroke.
The animal
is loose - out of her cage.
Attacking
your mouth with a vengeance - spitting sweet streams of sugar.
I come
hard, pushing my ass down into the bed,
Pulling
myself up with my fingers weaved into your hair,
Bucking
into your teeth, bruising your lips.
Pound
Pound. Faint. Breathe Breathe.
The lights
of my eyes flickering, blinking back the blackouts.
And you
crawl, naked, to suck on my breasts,
Reaching
for my nipples, lowering your body down,
You reach
between my legs, spreading open my lips,
Arching
our backs, making contact - cock to cunt.
Feeling
just the head, pushing, thrusting, opening my pussy,
Grunting
and grasping, high tilt, rolling waves of energy,
Lighting
up all of Manhattan in the dead of night.
C'mon!
C'mon!
Crying
my call of the submissive, "I'll do whatever you want.
What
do you like to do?" and you flip me to ride on top.
This
cruise just moved into high gear.
Each
grind of my hips - an Indy 500 lap.
Go! Go!
Yeah! Yeah! Smell that rubber burn!
Digging
my hands into your chest.
Pulling
out your heart to suck out the life, fuck it back into you.
Fuck!
Fuck! Fuck all night. The electric still blazing after dawn.
Listen
to the live recording of me reading this poem at www.myspace.com/lady_monster
Steve
Mackay of The Stooges on saxophone
Lydia
Lunch in the background
Recorded
on my MP3 player at The Make Out Room 11/07
