Burlesque
January 24, 2009
She doesn’t know that he watches.
When her toes are pointed and her thighs are dressed in glitter and lace.
The soft cascade of tumbling lights embracing her body.
Like the hands of a thousand needy lovers.
She teases and twirls.
Becoming the obsession.
The inspiration.
Swaying.
In a million coated silver diamonds.
He needs her.
Wants her.
Breasts.
Pussy.
Lips.
Neck.
He wants it all.
His hands trailing down to his trousers.
Shaking.
His need exploding like caged thunder.
His eyes running the lengths of her tiny frame.
Floating.
Arching.
The music pushing.
He can’t hold back.
His hands circling his now hard cock.
Up.
Down.
Curving.
His fist tightening.
The only sound from his lips.
As he shatters into a billion pieces under her gaze.
Her name.
Twisting into the air.
That only he knows.
© Copyright of Charlotte Thorpe
January 24, 2009 at 8:25 pm
Wow. I can picture it now…
January 27, 2009 at 1:52 am
watching and wanting can be as good as sex (almost.)
January 27, 2009 at 3:46 am
That’s how it is for a man . . . looking, feeling, then stroking and exploding.
Unless the woman is actually available to him.
March 4, 2009 at 3:39 am
Agreed with the other men.
You know how to put on a show and pull a man in.