deepundergroundpoetry.com
Lady in Black
When I saw this topic listed as a Competition, I immediately thought of a poem I wrote some time ago. I have revised a section of that much longer poem to allow it to stand alone and be entered in the Competition. Here is the link to that longer poem = https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/240717-equinox/
My flight was late,
It was nearly dark.
A car pulled up in front of me at Passenger Pick-Up.
The front passenger door swung open.
A voice,
Deeper,
Richer,
Than I remembered,
Angry,
Commanded,
"Get in!"
She drove,
Quickly,
Dangerously,
In silence.
I stared;
Barely recognizing her.
Longer hair,
Red,
So dark it was nearly black,
Hid most of her face.
A bare glimpse,
Of lips,
Tight,
Clenched,
Colored,
To match,
The red/black,
Of her hair.
Pearl white skin,
That nearly glowed,
Iridescent,
Resplendent.
Breasts,
My God,
I am certain,
I would have remembered those.
Deeply plunging neckline,
Cleavage that showed the edge of her nipples,
Pressing against the fabric,
Clearly erect.
Her dress,
A deep,
Dark,
Red,
So near to black,
That I was uncertain,
Of its true shade.
It flowed,
Hugged,
Caressed,
Her body,
As if it were a living layer of skin,
Fondling her own skin.
Her arms,
Were covered,
With red/black lace gloves,
From above her elbows,
Down to her fingers,
Yet not covering,
Exposing,
Her fingers themselves.
Her nails,
Sharply pointed,
Polished,
Red/black,
Shimmered,
In the car's darkness.
The dress,
Was slit up well above her waist,
To where it was,
Held with a silver chain,
Just under her breasts.
And, yet, the fabric,
Stayed close to her body,
Embracing,
Cuddling it.
While she drove,
Her movements,
Bared,
Her leg,
Her thigh,
Her hip,
Revealing,
More of her,
Pearl white glowing skin,
And a glimpse,
Of red/black pubic hair;
As if the fabric,
Willed it so.
On my part,
Watching her was,
An instant erection,
So hard,
It was painful,
And accompanied by,
Swelling,
Readiness,
In my balls.
The ride may have been long,
Or maybe it was short,
I don’t remember.
What I do remember,
After we arrived,
Is another,
Longer story.
My flight was late,
It was nearly dark.
A car pulled up in front of me at Passenger Pick-Up.
The front passenger door swung open.
A voice,
Deeper,
Richer,
Than I remembered,
Angry,
Commanded,
"Get in!"
She drove,
Quickly,
Dangerously,
In silence.
I stared;
Barely recognizing her.
Longer hair,
Red,
So dark it was nearly black,
Hid most of her face.
A bare glimpse,
Of lips,
Tight,
Clenched,
Colored,
To match,
The red/black,
Of her hair.
Pearl white skin,
That nearly glowed,
Iridescent,
Resplendent.
Breasts,
My God,
I am certain,
I would have remembered those.
Deeply plunging neckline,
Cleavage that showed the edge of her nipples,
Pressing against the fabric,
Clearly erect.
Her dress,
A deep,
Dark,
Red,
So near to black,
That I was uncertain,
Of its true shade.
It flowed,
Hugged,
Caressed,
Her body,
As if it were a living layer of skin,
Fondling her own skin.
Her arms,
Were covered,
With red/black lace gloves,
From above her elbows,
Down to her fingers,
Yet not covering,
Exposing,
Her fingers themselves.
Her nails,
Sharply pointed,
Polished,
Red/black,
Shimmered,
In the car's darkness.
The dress,
Was slit up well above her waist,
To where it was,
Held with a silver chain,
Just under her breasts.
And, yet, the fabric,
Stayed close to her body,
Embracing,
Cuddling it.
While she drove,
Her movements,
Bared,
Her leg,
Her thigh,
Her hip,
Revealing,
More of her,
Pearl white glowing skin,
And a glimpse,
Of red/black pubic hair;
As if the fabric,
Willed it so.
On my part,
Watching her was,
An instant erection,
So hard,
It was painful,
And accompanied by,
Swelling,
Readiness,
In my balls.
The ride may have been long,
Or maybe it was short,
I don’t remember.
What I do remember,
After we arrived,
Is another,
Longer story.
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