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By coujeaux Date: 2003 Nov 09 Comment on this Work [[2003.11.09.02.32.1369]] |
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Hands in air, bodies in motion, bump, grind, grab her from behind, innuendo; El sol emanates down, flesh welds brown, little cloth to worship skin lloriendo. Everyone has their own paradise, señor; those here belong to a sensual God, Voluntarily expatriated from frustrations you'll pay for, rats raced roughshod. I noted his explanation as I moved through the crowds; dancing was required, Little turnaround step, hip gyration; nothing exceptional, it was that I aspired. Fascination caught me observing one beauty in particular; my, the lithe grace, To her shoulders fluttered sunlight locks; steel blues accenting a delicate face. Pursued by barrel-chested toreador all day, she put him off in effortless style, He belted out his deep-throated machismo; her reply the non-committal smile. Sip from my rum-laden refreshment, chuckling at his pursuit, surprise in store; He muscled his way to the center of celebration then cleared all from the floor. Dare with one finger, exposure well in hand, he disrobed; the gathered, gasp. And what a mighty sight it was indeed; his manhood required two-hand grasp. His challenge now laid out to her, her hands covered her face, giggling, blush; All previous disbelief was minisculed as she accepted him; an expectant hush. Lean back, groan, rush, blown, then a hiss; she rose in red-fanged bliss, loud; Screaming in a sanguine shrill over twin-punctured kill, presented to the crowd. |