LUST

At the tip of my finger

There are no limits
for the masturbator
the subject matter
between head and finger
asks no permission
for this evenings session
find an astounding splatter
of pubis erectis
permitted entry for stimuli
is anything and anyone
In my mind
I can do all that
I please to you

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Heightened

At the tip of my finger
I place you
the rythmn slowly increasing
as long gliding slides
gain pace at the thought of you
quickening scenarios flash through
of pubis bones grinding
rubbed vulva to vulva
and then frozen
pleasure pulsates
through every gland
hot and throbbing


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Digit slide

Claustrophobic thought
caught me right in the thigh
moving on up
my bee-hive a wry
hand thrust down
slick mottled hair embrace
quickly cum with your
face keeping pace

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ONE LAST FLING

Might I be permitted
to brush
astride your hand
with red fingertip
contained in your world
of rich confinement
moneyed elites who have
no substance
drone out
facts, statistics and
banter social tattle
whilst I slowly
fade away aware
of all that sets us
apart





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