Between Cousinly Sheets - Rewrite

Between Cousinly Sheets      
      
Rowena says,        
“How do you like me in my barmaid outfit?”      
I reply, “It looks more like a French maid get up.        
But yes, I like it very much.”      
Ro says, “Just imagine you missed your flight        
and I’m your bar girl there to keep your mind        
on my legs and off business.”      
“Oops, I dropped my wallet        
between the couch pillows.        
Oh man, it’s stuck deep down in the frame.        
Damn. The fixes I get in. I need my ID        
for the blues concert at the bar tonight.        
I don’t want to let you down Rowena” I say.      
“Cousin let me help you.        
You look like you could use a hand.”      
“I’ll leave it to you the expert.        
My hands are so burly I can’t reach down there.”      
“No problem Johnny. Ah, I think I’ve snagged it.        
There you go.”      
     
“Rowena, I notice you’re still kneeling on the floor.        
Your skirt is riding up.”      
I reach down and pop her bottom        
With a swoop of my hand      
The first smack is followed by five more      
And she looks back at me      
With her eyes wide and her mouth in an O      
Like a girl on fire with the Holy Spirit      
Whose charismatic soul just got a new fiery tongue      
She says, “Sorry I tempted you with my hosiery.”      
I reply, “We’ll take this to your boudoir.        
There we can flesh out the details        
of your surrender.”      
She swallows and says, “We’re eighteen.        
But alas we’re still second cousins.”      
I answer, “As your older cousin by a few months      
It is my responsibility to keep you behaving.”      
       
I peer into her eyes which are warm and inviting.        
With another splash of my hand        
Her rose petal bottom sparks us at contact.        
“Did you feel that? Boy, we made electricity.”        
Her idea is born.        
“Your bed will be the stage for my apologetics.”      
Ah, I can feel your body heat        
so close. How I’d like to feel you against me        
but we have to remember we’re related by blood.”      
Rowena’s golden curls are illuminated        
by late afternoon sunshine and splash        
in splendor across her silk pillow like an angel’s halo.        
I say, “I can smell the scent of your perfume.        
Lavender if I’m not mistaken.”      
She teases, “I wore it for you.”      
   
I feel the surge of strange desires immersed        
in her sensual aura and her hand finds my home.      
I say, “Hey, don’t jack my beanstalk.        
Your cousinly touch doesn’t belong down there.”        
She replies, “The day is dawning when something        
as natural as pleasuring my cousin        
is my menu of choice.”        
Rowena lets her fingernails lightly graze my zipper.      
“Does that feel good Johnny?        
Remember to wait until you are alone        
to finish what I started.        
Mom will send me to the pastoral counselor      
if she catches us red-handed.        
Can you imagine me having to confess        
my urges to that old man?        
He’d take more than a professional interest        
in my fantasies if I know men.”        
        
“Temptress, bare your derriere        
for a private pillory.”      
“I know I’ve tempted my very own cousin.        
I deserve a good bottom warming.”      
Rowena lifts up her hips and pulls her dress up        
to her waist. I gaze hungrily at her.        
She slinks her undies down her thighs        
and bares her pubis to me. I lick my lips.        
She wriggles her cotton        
down her thighs and ankles.        
She rolls with her luscious ivory derriere        
And presses her sweet nothings        
into her sinuous pear-shaped curve of hips        
where they arc softly into her valley of secrets.      
       
Her beseeching expression        
is one of a desperate need for male guidance.        
She says, “Teach me what it means to be a woman.        
Spank me until my bottom turns pink        
like the first blush of dawn.”        
The stimulation of my hands upon her        
is designed to open her pores to breathe.        
Her muscles ripple in sweet undulation        
As my slaps grow into a rhapsody of musical notes      
From firecracker noise and her earthy moans      
Her body wrestles with an imaginary anaconda.         
She screams my name        
into the vat of genetic memory.        
When the tickle of my thistle on her bare skin      
Turns into an epic spanking      
Strong enough to provoke her inner cat      
Into purrs of satisfaction      
       
Her celestial orbs licked by ribbons        
from my hand’s warmth.        
She sinks her sweaty buttocks        
into the mattress        
with euphoria written in her glazed eyes.        
A smile glows on her face.      
“You took my lipstick down a few notches.          
As an offering to the male deity        
I’ll make you strawberry shortcake          
for such a heated humble pie.”  
“I can’t offer you the Bahamas  
But I know a little place down the hallway.”  
“You are the moonlight that gazes    
into my heart when I bathe in a shamrock sea.”  
“Let’s bubble bath together.”  
“I am your blushing bride.    
Our honeymoon begins in the tub.”