Sunday Afternoons

Do you remember the cozy times of our youth?

We spent on Sundays alone in my room?

We'd go to my bed and lock quietly the door

Cockteau Twins help us to shut out the world

I remember you nestled between my wide open legs

Feeling your breathing slow as my hands neared your waist

Your legs widen as my hands arrived between

Wandering and fumbling to open your jeans

And we'd zip those jeans down till they straddled your thighs

Tracing fingers on fresh white cotton as you closed your eyes

And then my warm fingers would finally descend

Under the bow to feel your soft feathery skin

And I'd extend my fingers as low as I could

To find wetness revealing it was feeling so good

As I slid that slippery love up your lips

I felt your passion grow as you pushed up your hips

This brought me closer to your open pink door

Now able to reach my eager finger within to explore 

Your breathing would change, you were ready to go

Turning your head until your face touched my own

So close, I would whisper, "How does this feel?"

"Wonderful" or "glorious" you allowed your heart to reveal 

Pressing the palm of my hand against your mound

My finger gripped tightly by the muscles which surround 

Until you came in my arms, letting yourself go

And I remained there within you, retreating so slow

And we lay there in silence in my little room

Savoring the feeling of another Sunday afternoon.