Tits

I saw her for too short a time as my car moved past.
Strange that she attracted my attention so thoroughly,
As she was not beautiful,
Having straight brown hair to her shoulders,
A slightly rounded back
And pale unremarkable face.

She was bent over the pushchair
And holding the hand of
A second child walking with her.
But some hunger in me, a longing,
A lust flying up
Fastened on her wonderful breasts.
Liquidly unrestrained
Beneath her thin blouse
Their delightful rounded mass shifted,
Constantly defining their milky nippled shape
By each move.

The hunger in my mouth and belly
Wanted those globes,
Those gorgeous tits,
And led to the arousal
Of imagining the feeling of
Her white belly
And her soft thighs
Under my hand.

I even fancied that
I could note in her face
An urgent need for my lust.
She wanted that release
Into the ocean
Of excited desire
My hand pushing into her knickers
Would bring -
My fingers, trembling, entering into
Her wet cunt,
And my hard shoved into
Her wondrous hairy cleft.

Then I would hold her
Milk wet tits in my fingers,
And feel the excess
Of her fleshy body
Riding and wanting
My thrusting.

Copyright ©2001 Tony Crisp