What Could Have Been...

It's like she was willing him

into life

with her magic,

and effortless smile

that came easy

as her swinging legs

that were wet with

perspiration,

and opening,

and closing lazily

with the arousing image

of her soft patina prize

resting, buried in the depths

of his hazily enclosed mind...

She was locked in a rhythm

of where and when

her darkness down below

would make it's grand appearance,

throwing shadows on the

olive colored terrain of her bare legs,

whenever her red dress of Mayan patterns

flew open,

while her face,

cradled by her black hair;

which was trussed up in a knot;

was turned away to the side,

as if she hadn't planned it all

to happen in this way...

...But whatever the intention,

Floyd was caught up in her act...

He'd started sweeping peanuts on the carpet,

until he fell victim to her sights...

...Now he's not sure where

his time's gone...

...or if he's been here

the whole night...

There's a wind coming in, sweeping,

and hiking Maria's dress

even further up than before...

...She's finally pointed her spotlight

on him now

with a unchecked look of longing...

He drops the broom, runs

to her shore...

She is calling for him to kiss her

on her hips,

and between her thighs...

He falls upon her,

with wild eyes, and busy hands!...

...Floyd is like a guided missile

as he draws his pulsing member

from the zippered door

of his pants fly...

Maria takes him in one hand;

(soft as a

butterflies wing)

she pumps him ferociously,

as they mash lips, and share an

empty bar stool...

...As day drunks enter in awe,

they continue to see no one,

as she takes his heat in her mouth,

swallowing, and inhaling

all of him

with a slurping gulp

that makes him cry out

in manic ecstasy...

*

He'll remember her name

'Maria',

though he's not sure if she's real,

or half-imagined

from his longing,

as he walks home alone

in the ruins of the night,

wondering what it would be like

it he had been brave enough

to ask her on a date...

...Aye, but it is his fate

to be a shy, and rather bookish dolt...

The night folds down

around his ears,

as he hunkers in for a night

of light beer, and heavy dreaming.

©

5/29/20

Bunny Villaire