For you

sick little psycho

drinking up her tea

She’s got her hands

between her thighs

and she’s staring into

your eyes and you know

she’s not for you

but you lick your lips

and you fantasize

your hands are sweaty

as you watch her

play you want a taste but

instead you stay

set the air on fire with

your desire and she

has you where she wants you

and she spreads her knees to

give you a glimpse and

she’s not ashamed to

tantalize as her face

flushes with her desire

you’re twitchy and aching and

you want to move closer but

you can’t get burned and her

fire is brighter than your brain

and she licks her lips

beckons you near and you’re writhing

and raging and nearly spilling

as she pulls her knees together

a moment passes and you

know she’s not done and

you are far from done so

you lean forward and grab the edges

of the table to hold yourself

still waiting impatiently for the

very next thrill so she grins a

wanton grin and begins again

slow and steady watching you watching

her and she’s so turned on by this

fire and this poison that she

spreads and you’re helpless and can’t

sit still and you’re rocking in

your chair and she bites her plump dewy

lip as she comes just for you.

You want more and she’s

finished all her tea and

you’re weighted down and heavy

and insane with desire as she gets

up and comes straight for you and

you think you’ve won a prize when

she pauses a moment so near

you take a breath and drown

in the scent of her fire.

And then she’s gone and out

the door and your feet are glued to

the floor and there’s no escape and

no chase, a wisp of smoke and a fading

trail.

 

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Author: doing2016

I started writing when I was very young. Then I was mortified on a bus full of people when one of my stories was read aloud. I lost my focus and quit. Now, I'm trying to find my voice and my ambition. I love to write, good or bad. So, I'm doing it here and now. Thank you.

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