She Slips into Her Lingerie

She slips into her lingerie

Unperturbed by the grace she has received in all her years of sacrifices and sweltering for a good family

Although it gave her a sense of satisfaction

When everything falls into place

Nothing seems to work well where affairs of the heart and physical longing is concern

it is lost in the midst of it all

Not that she is complaining

But in her endeavor for a better tomorrow

She is still, after all, a woman

Silhouetted inside her own compound

Which is not just a garden

But a playground she hasn’t had the privilege to explore when younger

In all her nakedness

Therein lives the effeminate man tied and knotted to her for good..

.

To her

He is but an innuendo who pleases no one but himself

With her needs and craving bloating within

She hungers for some wayward touch

Someone who could unbox her insatiable needs with care and respect a woman craves

Someone with enough resilience to sail the storm

Someone who understands when her soil needs wetting

And leave moist on her leaves

So she could eagerly wrap her petals around him

With the same attention, care and understanding given her

A wild orchid longing to bloom

Her craving now screams louder than the crashing of waterfall happening below

And thus she rhythmically nurtures herself

Oblivious to the melodrama and reverie

Triggering herself in alternate low high arousal

Immersing her thoughts in the most luscious of cosplay

Herself as the protagonist

At other times, the willing slave

She’s on fire…

.

With each contraction, she jolts to the spasms reacting on her crotch

Harnessing her to wince in delight

She abandons all thoughts of the man bequeathed

For he hasn’t a clue where her hot button situates

He understands neither her needs to have her gape widened to subdue the itch

But her imagery lover does

She yearns for his unassuming gallantry

And strong reassuring arms with a thrust that could make her clamp onto his hips wickedly

And gyrate his hump

She longs for her senses to be awakened

Because she is all woman

.

Her needs may be inconclusive

But right now, all she cares is to soar above the clouds

With a man who could coax the child out of her

She longs to be touched, teased, kissed and kneaded

She longs to be the wholesome woman before the coming of age

To even out the missed opportunities in her teens she so often reminisces

And in her latter years as a damsel caught in distress inside a restrictive society

She wants to be carried under his pinions and more

Much more…

.

Again

she slips back into her lingerie

Again she loses herself in her own thoughts and caresses

But all those delights are but momentary pleasures

For as the sun sets

What which lasts was her struggle with silence and loneliness tormenting her in the fading twilight

As she straddles silently, her grief awaits her in the cuffed room

Of false pretenses…

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