Wandering Hands

 

I slide my hand down your back
I grope and fumble
But you remain quiet
Just giving slightly to my touch

My sneaky fingers glide around
Your bottom and I’m fumbling once
More. But you are passive
C’mon c’mon, give it to me!

Finally I’m on my knees
I drag your leg away
My hand searching for the
Treasure you withhold

I just don’t believe it
I was sure you’d give it up
But, sofa, if you haven’t got my keys
Then where the hell are they?

 

Iain

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *