Chapter 3
714 Words
Max
Last night, it happened again. This time, it was about midnight. I was laying in my bed, feigning sleep because I know that it wouldn’t come. For several nights now, I had been reliving my visit from the Poetry Lady. I can hear the music everywhere I go. I can smell her perfume, I can hear her voice. And God forbid I try anything remotely resembling sleep. I feel her body over and over again, the way she sat on me, her leg, and her….no, don’t think! Too late. Now I have a never-ending erection.
I had decided to try once more to close my eyes and hoped to be blessed with the peaceful solace I like to call sleep. I don’t know how long I had been lying there before I started to dream. This time, I could hear Eric’s “Chocolate Legs.”
The door opened and I hear a lady’s voice playing over the song, but not against it, as if singing but not against it, as if singing but different words.
“I know you’re been thinking of me,” she said. “Well, here’s another thought.”
Craving a
Honey lace
Toe curling
Mind boggling
Thought distimulating
Heat provoking
Love demanding
Soul satisfiying
Never recusing
Hip lock
Offering not a conclusion
But a commencing solution
To a non existing problem.
With that, she kissed me. It was a kiss so real that I woke up only to find the lady from my dreams kissing me. The kiss was so familiar, I just knew it was my Poetry Lady. Before I could wake up enough to demand her information, she had ripped the sheet away and mounted me. With the shock of her on top of me, my already rigging manhood gre harder, if that was possible.
At that precise moment, the thought “5’5, 146, swinging nothing but a g string” popped into my mind. And did she work it, yes she did! I watcher her go, up, down, left, right, around, and around until I was exploding and helplessly, but satisfyingly weak. I then felt her collapse into my chest and I held her as we laid in the aftermath together, catching out breath.
At this point, I could feel what she had on, or rather what she didn’t. Thought I was lying about the g string? That and one of my cotton button down shirts. And I didn’t remember her wearing the g string but I later noticed it on the floor.
I guess she had forgotten to get up and leave quickly, so I rolled her off of me, the flipped her so that she was on her stomach, proceeding to make her feel as confused and I was happy at the moment. I took her from behind, bouncing on her g spot until she was arching.
“Put your back down a bit,” I said, urging her to keep her body straight. Her orgasms were coming quickly and I was fascinated by how uninhabited she was. She was pulling on the sheets, and biting whatever she could fine. Mid ways through, I picked up a pillow, placing it under her body and holding it while I pushed inside of her. I needed to know she, who ever she really was, would be affected the same way, if not more than I was. When I knew she couldn’t take any more, I gave one final thrust for good measure and I felt her shutter course through my own body and the place where we were connected became more wet.
She laid down, clearly spent and trying to recover and I lay back trying to catch my breath. After a few minutes, like last time, she got up and put on her clothes, then walked to the door.
“Still no name?” I asked.
“Soon,” she replied.
“Why did you come back?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she said with a laugh. It was sexy, but some how so familiar. “You’ll find that out if you figure out my name.”
With that I heard the door close and her footsteps down the hallway. I didn’t run after her this time though, because I knew she would have a different gait the next day. I was quite happy with my experience.
- Writer
