LE BICYCLETTE DE BELSIZE
As I drive home from work, with the evening
sun still beating down hot on the windscreen, I
come to an abhorrent obstruction in the
road, a cyclist the worst site to any driver with
somewhere to go and a finite time
to get there. I was driving down a very
narrow lane following a cyclist that I
knew I couldn’t pass when I noticed the cyclist
for the first time, her brown hair dancing across
her shoulders contrasting starkly with the white of
the cotton blouse which tapered down to her
narrow waist before disappearing into
the waist band of her gray checked skirt.
I pondered briefly on the name of the pattern
was it “Hounds tooth, Prince of Wales then the cloth
stretched tight against her cheeks as she was stood
up in the saddle as we climbed the hill, her long
tanned legs powering her on and her
buttocks reshaped themselves again
and again, I could only imagine what
was happening in front of her out of my
view, then the material was tight against her
curves once more as her bottom perched
back on the saddle and every bump in the road
brought a new quiver to her plaid clad cheeks
and a delicious new tingling to my loins
then all at once the lane ended and she was gone
down a path went the girl and the bike she sat upon
REFLECTED GLORY
She sits before the mirror
Head inclined
Fine brown hair falls off her shoulders
Cascading down one side
The evening sun shimmering on the fine strands
The lustrous skin of her shoulders and back,
Naked but for the slender straps of her dress
Silently invites my caress
Her heady perfume filled the room
Invading my senses like a fragrant garden after summer rain
The fabric of her dress hugs the wondrous contours I know so well
In the mirror her hazel eyes look back at me
As she sees me watching her
And knowing my thoughts her reflection smiles
And at its radiance my heart soars
Making me want her
I don’t ask why she loves me
I just thank god for her
For her elegant beauty
And for the greater beauty inside
This evening I must share her
But later she will be mine alone
So for now I bath in the reflected glory of her
AFTERNOON DELIGHT
I stood in the bathroom doorway
And watched her stir
The afternoon sunlight
Painted patterns on her naked contours
As it shone through the billowing curtains
Her hair, still damp from our passionate exertions
Clung to her face and neck
And beads of sweat sparkled on her skin
She lay on her side
Knees drawn up to her belly
Showing off the wonderful sweep
From narrow waist to curvaceous hip
And the perfect roundness of sumptuous buttocks
Then she rolled on to her back as she stirred again
And the magnificence of her was there before me
With patterns of light and dark dancing over her form
Her nipples aroused as the soft breeze wafted over her
Her eyes opened and she smiled when she saw me
She sat up and brushed the hair from her face
Then moved onto her knees and stretched
Leaning back until her hands touched the bed behind her
Supporting herself on clenched fists
And throwing her head right back
Until her black hair tumbled down her back
My eyes slowly scanned the beauty of her
From the cascading black hair
Down the cords and sinews of her neck
To the fine structure of her shoulders
Dwelling on her firm breasts and proud nipples
Before continuing to the soft down on her flat belly
And her round hips and buttocks
Before reaching the thick black triangle
And her long taught thighs either side
I left the doorway and picked my way
Through the discarded clothing on the floor
To reach the bed where she now sat
Sitting on her haunches she looked at me
A radiant smile illuminating her face
With eyes that said “again”
ISLE OF LOVE
The scent of jasmine and honeysuckle was
Everywhere, drifting on the afternoon breeze
Filling my nostrils and catching in my dry throat
The ice in my drink chinked out a melody and
Beckoned me, my companion sat on the veranda
She turned her head to me as I approached
I leant down and kissed the nape of her neck
The downy hairs stood up and I kissed again
She met my gaze and smiled coyly then looked down
At her lap, so my eyes wandered to the
Gaping fabric of her silk dress and the soft
Roundness of her within. I watched as
Her nipples aroused either by the cooling
Air or at the knowledge of my gaze, no matter
I felt no shame at the beholding of her
She looked up at me with beguiling eyes
Her eyes said our drinks could wait awhile
I took her hand and returned her smile
IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER
Her eyes of velvet hazel brown
Looked at me and then look down
Her nose twitched and she bit her lip
Then she composed herself and took a sip
She fought to suppress it for a while
Then her full lips broke into a smile
I stared at the curvaciousness in her gown
Then her brow furrowed into a frown
Under my gaze her lashes fluttered nervously
her eyebrows raised disapprovingly
as I looked at her figure shamelessly
Picturing her body naked before me
The skin of her cheeks flushed deep red
Then proudly she held up her head
She flicks the brunette strands of hair
Off her face as I stand and stare
I love the beautiful things in life
So what’s wrong with ogling my own wife
HEAT
We came together
In a frenzied embrace
Mouths locked, Nostrils flared
Snorting like fighting bulls
Kissing, stroking, groping
Fumbling with buttons and belts
Hooks and eyes
Until we lay in a heap
Disordered in our semi nakedness
I caressed her breasts
Teasing her nipples
First with fingers
Before attending to them orally
I moved my hand across her soft belly
And pulled up her skirt
My mouth alternated between
Her swollen nipples and her eager mouth
My slipped under her skirt
And I reached up
Until I felt the silk of her underwear
I pulled them down to her ankles urgently
Then I moved my hand steadily
Up her long stockined leg
From ankle to calf to her inner thigh
The soft naked flesh above her stocking
Before combing my fingers through
Her luxuriant growth
She turned her attentions once again
To my ear frantically exploring it with her tongue
I cupped her pubic bone in my hand
And rocked it gently
Then I slipped my fingers between her lips
Into the creamy wetness
She moaned gently in my ear
And slid her finger around my swollen shaft
Tugging roughly at me
As I worked her wet flesh
Until her rhythmic moaning Reach crescendo
And she came
Her thighs closed on me
Then she rolled onto her back
For me to mount her
She wanted me so badly
And my balls ached for the want of her
I lay on her and we kissed
And I probed at her wetness
Teasing her lips with my tip
Then in her urgency
with her slender legs wrapped around me
She pulled me in until she enveloped me
Then she gripped me
Vice like with her slim yet powerfull thighs
Preventing my withdrawal
Her mouth was again on my ear
Licking and chewing
Her razor like nails dug into my skin
I arched my back
And entered her deeper
Then her grip on my hips lessoned
I withdrew and thrust into her again
She writhed beneath me moaning
As she tongued my ear
I thrust again
She bit my lobe
Her nails were now in my buttocks
I thrust again and again
Then again faster and faster
We moan loudly in unison
Until I exploded inside her
And she clung to me like a limpet
There we lay in the afterglow of passion
Locked in fond embrace
For a timeless period
Until our passions were again arroused
WORKING WOMEN
WPC’S wearing stout shoes
Solicitors dressed in dark hues
Traffic wardens with attitude
Merry widows with gratitude
Highflying executives power suited
Farming lass’s Wellington booted
Essex girls in white stilettos
Shop assistants with painted toes
Cleaners and cooks in coloured tabards
Casino croupiers dealing cards
Any of the above I’m pleased to say
Will help to pass a wet day away
PICTURES OF LILY
Her hair was dirty blonde, shoulder length
Curly like loose ringlets cascading down
Her face was Mediterranean, dark, dusky
Eyes black as the night sky in winter, brows
Thick and dark, nose pert, mouth full and pouty
Her skin smooth as polished wood, her figure
Like a Rodin carving of perfection
Dress this in silk and lace, you have passion
Her soft breasts hidden within delicate lace
Hips, buttocks, femininity similarly
Her legs sheathed in stocking of black silk
Stiletto heels shaping them perfectly
A vision as this is not as it seems
It’s the airbrushed woman of my dreams
WHITE LADY
The soft pale skin of her face was hidden
Beneath the large brim of hew broad straw hat
This cast a dappled shadow across her
Which touched her shoulders, arms and her breasts
The straw hat contained her strawberry curls
While white cotton confined her young breasts
The cotton of her dress hid her figure
It billowed around her, fitting only
Where it touched, her young body a mystery
A vision in white causing men to stare
As a shaft of light burst through the trees
Backlighting her form for us all to see
Everything exposed by the summer light
Set all men’s pulses racing at the sight
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