Babe_in_Hand

Sitting with Shauna
the first time alone
on her couch,
she calmed my heated advance
with the reminder
that her teenage daughter was upstairs
and could hear us.
I took a deep breath in resignation,
but the resourceful artist
I had come to visit
rose quietly from my side
and returned with
hand lotion
and a hand towel.
As she slowly stroked me
with slippery expertise,
I nuzzled and kissed her neck,
breathing in the rich aroma
of her chocolate skin.
Her touch was loving,
understanding,
artful and gentle,
not jerking but coaxing
with the various subtle tones
of her palm’s palette.
In like manner
I played with her generous breasts
through her blouse,
finding myself regressing,
wishing to suckle
upon this tender mother.
There was no hurry in her grip...
she could have been humming a lullaby.
When at length
I filled her hand with my lotion,
I buried my face in her bosom,
whimpering,
“Mama” softly escaping my lips
as she continued her milking
until all was accounted for
and settled.

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Poemission

Babe in Hand

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