Your Breasts

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Mine. But not.
72 words
4.55
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My wife sleeps soundly.
Bare buttocks pressed against my leg.
My eyes closed, my mind open, picturing you.
Picturing yours.
Milky, freckled.
Givers of hope, furtive comfort.
I dream of nursing on them. Relying on them. My sustenance.
You send me pictures.
Digital secrets. Electronic yearning.
I touch them, I’m whole.
They belong to me.
They reside somewhere else.
I miss them. Live in the emptiness.
Masturbate on a cold bathroom tile.

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2 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 5 years ago
yes marriage does go

on too long

AnonymousAnonymousover 5 years ago
Ok

This one is interesting.

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