Riding the Line [Poetry] [His Perspective]

Sex on the Train: Staying On

Attractive women ride the train
stand waiting on the platform
oblivious

Unaware or ignoring my glances.

If aware, what then?

A smile, a nod?

What makes them ‘attractive’?

Faces, hair, bodies (any shape size or age), clothes, shoes, and
fantasy.

Perhaps a Goddess to be worshipped
a slut to be fucked
an innocent to be seduced.

Ah, she returns my stare, confident, fearless.

I lower my eyes; look up again.
Still she stares.

I smile. She nods. OMG!
Train stops. She gets off. Not my stop.

Do I follow her;
invite her for coffee?

No. Will miss appointment. Train begins moving.

I stare at another attractive woman, two rows down.

Sex on the Train. Getting Off

“I don’t believe in God
the usual way,” she said.
“I worship differently, sensuously,
with my body, not only mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“Flesh is sacred,
something to be
worshipped
not evil.”

I’d gotten off the train.
We were having coffee.

More attractive
than I’d thought, more
entrancing

she smiled archly.
“You got off the train for me.”

I nodded, eyes locked on hers.

“Would you like to worship me,
my sacred flesh?”

she asked, caressing herself.

Worship her sacred flesh.

“Yours also, but
mine more so

you feel that?”

I nodded.

“Worship, now with
your eyes, later
with your mouth and
tongue and
hands.”

Written by Steve Liebowitz

One Comment Add yours

  1. Pat Milone says:

    Wow. Provocative. Titillating!

    Like

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