It's one of those brisk-but-bright fall
days. We are outside, walking
under the brilliant colors. The leaves float
down between us, bumping on a breeze,
swirling slowly sliding us sideways
into looser treetops where we walk.
I can't canter at your pace
and it seems the breeze bounces me
against you. We're not supposed to touch
yet; this walk is only a second
date and each small stagger sends
shooting sensations . . . I suspect
I'm falling without accident now
my body has shifted and sensual
salivation has started as I stride
crossing legs closer to rub
my ache. I want to stop walking
with you now . . .
I train my sight on your hands
I'm not holding and I
can almost feel their touch sliding
from the small of my back, over my
hips, swooping over my stomach and
up, oh, up and firmly molding up and
yes! over my breasts as I lean
into you and take your face in my own
hands and taste your sweet lips, first
the bottom lip, sucking between my own
flicking my tongue along your teeth. I
trail down over your neck and bite
at your shoulder as your hands circle
behind and down and oh! you're so near
yes! pulling up you yank my panties
into allies drawing me a distraction
and I wimper with wanting you. I push
you down into the leaves, over your sit
I straddle straining for feeling through
folds of cloth. I push a hand down
stroking your veined victor your magic
wand your straining oh! let me release
you yes! let me see your upright glory as
your hands slide up my
skirt, hastily pulling out pushing
aside the now useless panties. And
now, pushing forward I take you;
my knees slide through the leaves,
wearing a path with the repetition.
I swing my hips against you until
you throw me back and I tie my legs
behind you, thrusting up, arching back
under you, connecting my centre with
your strokes until my cries come to
screams and another frightened flock
takes flight from their tree . . .
You look at me curiously and ask
if we're walking too fast, my breathing
is quick and heavy. The blood rushes up
from my loins to my cheeks and I tell you
yes, perhaps we should stop walking and sit
in the shade, somewhere secluded.
October 11, 1996
Heather Shaw
For Jesus