The Most Intimate You

I recall my first touch  
of the most intimate you  
the back seat of the van  
a blanket to conceal the view  
 
I sneaked my young hands  
beneath the waist of your clothes  
and reached down with my fingers  
destination unknown  
 
you were so young  
I didn’t know what I’d discover  
until my fingers lightly brushed  
the softness of your nubile feather  
 
your nervous hands  
pushed me discreetly away  
you weren’t yet ready  
to offer your innocence that day
 
until several months later
when you must have decided
climbing up in your loft  
it was me you invited
 
we started to kiss
this time you let my hands wander
easing shorts and your panties
down lower and lower
 
then I saw for the first time  
in the bright afternoon light  
lovely short brown wisps
guarding warm flesh, young and tight
 
my hands touched that softness  
and I kissed you there too
I watched pink lips parting  
just like my fantasy of you
 
months went by
and with each rendezvous
I came to know better
the most intimate you
 
I remember dark nights
when you’d straddle my waist
and you parted your legs
to spread open your wings
 
drops of wetness were waiting  
for my fingertips
and my fingers would draw it  
up the length of your lips
 
then I explored you inside  
and felt your warm wet caress
my hand sinfully searching  
your most private pink flesh
 
when your hips pressed against me
I could reach deeper inside  
and when all was just perfect  
we came at the same time
 
then we’d lie there sleeping
until you departed my bed
leaving my lonely fingers holding
nothing but  your sensual scent
 
and when I sat there alone
with you out of my view
I think of those first days
discovering the most intimate you