Erotic Poetry #2
The constant creaking of the floor below
Reminds me that someone still wakes,
Walking beneath me, beneath my secret anticipation.
No thought of prying ears holds me from me.
No, not tonight.
The vibrations call me—I rise from my covers, naked,
Grab the first battery-filled plastic companion
That my horny hand can reach.
Ignoring the call of any silent dong,
I take the whirring vibrator back with me.
No sooner than am I back beneath the blanket,
It is inside my pussy. It has been aching.
Aching for the big pounding, wet
Like the tongue of a panting creature
In the impossible summer.
I push it deeper in me, beads spinning,
Rabbit’s ears use my clit to lean against
As though they would stop their shaking.
Thank God they keep on. I am pounding,
Vibrator holds me rapt, every intention, bit
Of attention on my clitoral buildup,
My filled-up center.
Faster. I press down, in, along its full-length beckoning
Of my flowing desire. I become
A desperate heavy breather, calling out the names of gods
And strangers, freeze-frame fantasies.
I am suddenly quiet. Roomie still awake one floor down.
Too late for shyness.
My cum washes away everything – the day, the fear, the angst,
The way I wonder what will be with my new love tomorrow.
I don’t care. I moan, the rabbit beats me,
vibrations flow deep, hot, and brutal.
I thrust. Wave crashes. Tide subsides.
Money may not buy love.
Money did buy me this hot ritual,
One I will perform again
And again.
Katalina D. Harrison
Tags: Erotic Poetry