- Erotic Poetry
- The Spying Eyes in a Teen’s Bedroom
Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
Disclaimer: The young woman and the young men described in this poem are 18 years of age.
Dolls line the shelves above her bed,
witness to the sex that has thrashed in secret.
They’re kind of a spy:
information better left unsaid,
better left unknown to her old man.
Even if they could look away, they would not,
for the whispering, panting fevers
this debutante has caused
gives reason for pause
with the lovers she has laid.
The pin-up posters tacked on the wall
pose with rebelliousness and have one eye open:
They’re voyeuristic men
that wriggle in gloss to recall
the pink flower that has been spread.
A world away from her bored, intact virginity,
for she is the goddess of a showing:
An exhibition of rapture,
easy for simple capture,
when lust acts of its own accord.
Stuffed animals that are a soft memory,
and lackadaisical, childhood toys of a past age:
They slouch and are present,
observing the touch of chivalry,
these shy young men, legs wild, bent.
But what a delicious morsel she is, easy to eat,
a confectionary of mint and sage,
ever-pleasing to a tongue,
a young love song, sung,
making love to nape and nuzzle.
