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Image for the poem a good girl's perversion

a good girl's perversion


I’ve given you directions to an Inn on an old country road.
precisely at midnight, you knock on the door where the
antiqued bronze 2 hangs. ‘it’s unlocked,’ I say, & you enter
cautiously. the room is dark except for the glow of a low fire
in the hearth.

from the shadows, I instruct you to remove your clothes, place
them on the chair. you do so slowly, but I’m a patient man. you
hesitate at your lacy undergarments, then blushingly slip them off.

you wait as I observe your beauty, your hands covering your
sublimest treasure. ‘lie down,’ I say. ‘raise your knees & spread
your legs.’ you do as you’re told, exposing your timid glory. I tell
you to touch yourself, insert your fingers. ‘I can’t.’ do you think
you have a choice?

‘I have a cane.’ my voice is firm but subdued. ‘if you defy me, I will
beat you. how much pain can your derriere withstand?’ I can see your
breathing increase, your breasts heaving. you place your fingers where
I want them, as you rub gently. how you excite me with your mere touch,
that is not even on my own rigidness, but on your flourishing womanhood.
are you a witch? are you Hecate?

‘do you love me?’ I ask, as you explore. ‘No. no, I don’t love you.’ I am, of
course, not surprised, nor repelled. ‘then why did you come?’

you speak as your moisture beckons your fingers. ‘don’t know. drawn by
the intrigue, I suppose. maybe I’m foolish. maybe crazy.’

‘you’re not crazy,’ I tell you. ‘you’ve read my poems; you took something
from them, & you want to give me something in return, so you give me this.’

you probably didn’t hear me, as your fingers drive forcefully. moaning like
a fallen angel, your back arches slightly, as you rush desperately to the
ascension of your gilded tempest. your jungle cat screams bear witness,
as you take violent flight to your own beautiful heaven…

and I am sated more than you can imagine. as you lie there, serene in the
afterglow, I say ‘get dressed. you can go now.’ you’re perplexed. ‘that’s it?
I thought…’

I tell you there will be other interludes, I’ll contact you. as you exit, I remain
in the shadows, in my enraptured reverie. but I do not smile.
I never smile...

                                                                                           
JohnFeddeler
Written by JohnFeddeler
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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