- Erotic Poetry
- torn fishnets
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Behind my armchair
I found a small scrap
of torn black fishnets
And I smiled to myself
Remembering…
My legs spread wide
In four inch heels
Bare breasted
Gripping the chair
Bent at the waist
You tore through
Clutching my hips
Ripping my panties
Entering
Thrusting
Together
Grinding
Moaning
Trembling
Thrusting
Collapsing
Exhausted
Ecstatic
Now I am remembering….
I wonder what house guest
Will trip over the next scrap
And pocket it
Smiling
Knowing
Wondering
I tucked it in a drawer
Where I keep such things
Because I have such things
To conceal.
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