deepundergroundpoetry.com
Passion on the 2:15
With certain men
all it takes is a look
for the ache to start
They can make a woman wet
instantly
You just can't help it
the jizz of chemistry
steams in
and right away you know
you'll soon be
tearing off clothes
getting the important
aspects of anatomy
exposed
immediately
without delay or concern
for inconsequential
niceties
like who
or why
or when
I was on the train
bound for London
and the moment he slid the door open
to share my compartment
both of us understood
Our eyes met
only briefly
but it was long enough to
acknowledge
the mutual hunger that blazed
First class?
he enquired of me
in a Northern Irish accent
that melted my legs to uncross
and obey
I was already feeling his tongue
running its way slowly upwards
along the curve of my black stockinged thigh
inching towards my tiny
special occasion
creme open lace panties
with their dainty French bows
The hand embroidered silk
delicately protecting
the careful artwork
around my neatly shaved pussy
had cost me a fortune
But as he leaned closer towards me
I would have given
anything
everything I owned
for his strong hard fingers
to yank them down around my ankles
shred them without mercy
and fling them
from the window of the moving train
before he...
May I see your ticket, love?
You'll need to pay extra,
or move
I'm afraid this is
a first class compartment.
all it takes is a look
for the ache to start
They can make a woman wet
instantly
You just can't help it
the jizz of chemistry
steams in
and right away you know
you'll soon be
tearing off clothes
getting the important
aspects of anatomy
exposed
immediately
without delay or concern
for inconsequential
niceties
like who
or why
or when
I was on the train
bound for London
and the moment he slid the door open
to share my compartment
both of us understood
Our eyes met
only briefly
but it was long enough to
acknowledge
the mutual hunger that blazed
First class?
he enquired of me
in a Northern Irish accent
that melted my legs to uncross
and obey
I was already feeling his tongue
running its way slowly upwards
along the curve of my black stockinged thigh
inching towards my tiny
special occasion
creme open lace panties
with their dainty French bows
The hand embroidered silk
delicately protecting
the careful artwork
around my neatly shaved pussy
had cost me a fortune
But as he leaned closer towards me
I would have given
anything
everything I owned
for his strong hard fingers
to yank them down around my ankles
shred them without mercy
and fling them
from the window of the moving train
before he...
May I see your ticket, love?
You'll need to pay extra,
or move
I'm afraid this is
a first class compartment.
Published 23rd Jan 2011
| Edited 14th Jul 2012
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Anonymous
- Edited 15th May 2018 11:36am
24th Jan 2011 9:35am
<< post removed >>
24th Jan 2011 10:48am
You must have been exceedingly well brought up, Jes.
Must admit I'm surprised there are still people out there who laugh embarrassment at a tired old tale about a skimpy pair of day dreaming knickers tho.
One hopes you are not alone.
Anonymous
- Edited 15th May 2018 11:36am
24th Jan 2011 11:01am
<< post removed >>
24th Jan 2011 11:09am
Tx J - spoken like one who knows!
My most fervent hope is that it enhances the standing of hunky ticket inspectors everywhere. However, I do not wish to be held responsible for a mass outbreak of pantie hurling on Virgin Trains.
24th Jan 2011 12:49pm
poem with exotic depth of embarrasment. Had an excellent time during the course of my read and I am gonna add this one.
24th Jan 2011 1:18pm