FirstA Poem by jenbem
It's a prose poem. I think. I'm not sure. My first piece of 'erotica' although I don't know that I would really call it that....
“I want to be fucked.”
She told me one night.
We were young.
But the way her strawberry blonde hair glistened
in the parking lot lights made her sound much older.
We were in the back of my dad’s old Suburban
sitting on the dark edge of the theatre parking lot
after the last showing of some romance
she had begged me to see.
“Have you ever…?”
I began to question, but she silenced me
by pressing her thin, trembling lips to mine
and unbuttoning her new blue shirt.
I was entranced by her breasts that appeared.
Small and white, with tiny freckles,
covered by a pink demi-cup bra.
My hands found them new and perfect.
She gasped when I reached inside and
caressed her n*****s.
She was so young and fresh. I could smell her
shampoo, deodorant, and that cucumber lotion
she must have borrowed from her mother.
I felt myself go hard for all of her
but thought I should try to resist.
“You don’t want to do this here,”
I whispered into that strawberry hair.
“let me take you somewhere else”
She shook her head, sending her clean,
young scent to engulf me.
“Take me here. F**k me now.”
And with that she undid my jeans
“See, I knew you wanted me”
She giggled in a seductive, confident voice that
I couldn’t have imagined from those lips,
waxy with some fruity lip balm.
I was shaking with fear, anticipation, and the
weight of her expectations but sat up and crawled
She giggled, more nervously,
as I touched her cheek.
It didn’t last very long.
I pushed her shoulders onto the mat,
pressing my body against her as I
She cried out as I entered.
I would have stopped to make sure she was alright
but the sound of her guttural scream ignited me.
I pushed deeper into her, and harder.
Her nails dug deep into my back.
I watched her beautiful, body arch against me
Even as her delicate thighs wrapped around my body.
I came soon after.
She lay on the mat, panting,
with tiny flecks of blood speckling her skin.
I leaned back against the
coolness of the foggy window.
She looked up at me through her knotted hair,
bra twisted about her shoulders and otherwise naked,
with her large blue-green eyes,
begging, pleading me for something more.
“Do you love me yet?” she questioned
into the silence.
© 2008 jenbem
Added on April 2, 2008
Last Updated on April 4, 2008
AboutI'm a senior English major at Towson University. I am also the managing editor of Towson's Columbia Scholatic Press silver circle winning literary magazine, Grub Street. I am the captain of the colorg.. more..
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