Looking into her bedroom, I see her dancing naked.
This isn’t for me. She’s moving to her own need, something ripe, beating deep.
Her wide hips sway, beckoning love.
Her pendulous breasts move counter-point, their swollen burnt-pink nipples begging bites.
Hearing me moan, she stops and faces.
Across the threshold, eye meets eye. Her’s are glinty black with half-lid lust. Mine stare back, white virgin wide.
Slowly she slides two fingers between fur-bound lips and up, smiling open the glistening pink between.
I feel myself go liquid, watching her lick the tootsie rolls clean.
Yeah. Picked Updike for a reason.
