While You Slept
Through the day I will think of dream-lovers past.
In the grocery store I will feel his eyes on me again and smile remembering how good his lips felt on my inner thigh, his tongue traveling up, up.
As I wash the dishes, the soapy water will become that foaming stream where his hands traced the curve of my back, grasped the fullness of my buttocks and pulled me to him.
When I slide my fingers across the smooth firmness of your office desk, I will remember how firm he felt in my hand as I stroked up and down, up and down, phallus ready and straining against my palm.
My skin will not forget.
When I sigh in frustration because you will not have me, I will remember how I cried out when he lifted me onto him, whispering my name, and how the force of our lovemaking shook me to the core.
These thoughts will get me through the day.
Through the moments of hurt and self doubt, when I do not tempt you.
If only in dreams, I have tempted someone else.
Through the anger and contempt I feel when you're too busy.
He made the time.
Through the loathing in my belly when you just don't feel like it.
He begged me for days.
In the same night that you have slept, I have been wanted. I have been craved and worshipped and devoured.
I am Venus. I am sexy.
And if you do not see it, I need only to close my eyes.
The seduction begins anew