her favorite things she liked to share with him when he came over to her house they lost track of time as they explored her favorite things, the things he did to her, the way he felt on top of her, the way he felt underneath her as she rode him – one of her favorite things, one of her favorite places, her favorite spot to watch his face as he got closer and closer, her hands resting on his chest as she leans over and he sees her favorite things dangling and he reaches up and cups them with his hands and her favorite things feel comfortable in his hands but she dismounts and moves to the edge of the bed on her knees, her ass looking at him temptingly, her favorite things being him inside of her in various positions, in various places.

her favorite things were his favorite things and together they shared the riches between themselves and discovered how to contrast and compare their favorite things when it came to the bedroom and coming and not going but staying and showing, cuddling and eventually maybe even shoring, showering with him was one of her favorite things of all time the way his hands washed her body and they moved under the water as if it was raining and they were in the jungle doing one of her favorite things – kissing like it was the last kiss and you knew it was the last kiss so you shouldmake the best of it and not try to flip out, just enjoy her favorite things, his lips, his hips, his thrust, his nature, his ability to nurture then fuck then nurture again at a moment’s notice was one of her all time favorite things or maybe it was just him altogether that was one of her favorite things to come undone and remember how to love, remember how to repeatedly come.

her favorite thing was to sing to him then goto him backstage and let him know how much she loved him out of all the other humans on the planet and the way he reacted to her touch was one of her fun favorite things and the way he picked her up and carried her across the room effortlessly, that was definitely one of her favorite things. and that thing he did with his tongue and his fingers at the same time, that one thing that drove her wild – that was one of her favorite things.

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i too remember her chest, the way those two mounds of flesh merged and met
creating cleavage worthy of the Smithsonian or some other institute or museum
and those boobs, those mammaries, those delicious globes of skin and her nipple,
the way in which it became erect, her chest, the best of the rest and the way i laid
my head below that chest and nibbled and moved and she moaned and they moved
with her when i entered her from behind, falling down and moving back and forth
rhythmically, i remember her chest.

i too remember her touch, her fingers so slender and tender and the way they wandered
from here to there on your body like they had a passport to go to all the places, to visit
all the parts of you, all the pieces of you, and i remember her touch as it moved from my
hair to my cheek to my mouth and then further down south, her touch bringing me to the
brink and back again and she just smiled and laughed and continued on, not caring about
the time i remember her touch so much.

i too remember her fuck, so rough, not like her making love, her tugs at my body, moving
me here, moving me there, moving my mouth everywhere and then she pleaded for me to
do this to that or that to this and i too remember her putting my hand there, somewhere,
moving to the rhythm, moving to the mood in the air – desperate need, animal like lust.

i too remember her afterglow, the way she showed her soul after she came, those few moments
right after the most amazing as she had this literal glow about her face if you’d done a good job
and the way she smoked her cigarette after and looked at you with those eyes, those dangerous
after sex eyes that you couldn’t escape from as they followed your every movement, evaluating
your performance, your perception of her performance.

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as she settled down next to me,
purring almost i brushed the tips
of her nips with my hands and her
breath escaped her lips as the contact
caused her to arch up against my hand,
so manly and large and moving over
her body, cupping her breasts, moving
them, kneading them, needing them,
my hands through her hair as i kiss
her forehead, her nose, her mouth,
then slowly and deliberately move
down there so my hands can explore
her body like her hands had explored mine
and the feeling of her skin underneath my
fingertips, so smooth and soft and delicate
as it fluttered and moved at my touch, my
commanding touch moved from light to
slightly rougher and found her warm patch
down there and entered with no resistance as
her hips pushed up against my hand, my fingers
buried and moving – snaking around – as i kissed
her belly and used my other hand to tease her breasts
some more and soon she was moaning and moving
beneath the direction of my hands like a conductor
i used my hands to get the band to reach the peak,
then a quick repeat to bring her there again before
she knew what was happening, the pleasure of two
in a row falling over her.

her hands and my hands.
my hand in her hand.

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—

her eyes peered at me
from the darkness, two
orbs of light showing her
soul and the sexual nature
of her being. such a human
being being human, such a
flower i see before me,
opening, welcoming.
well, i’m coming, she
said and i looked up at
smiled soaking in the
glow of her, those eyes
of hers, those moans of
hers, those shudders, those
flutters of her stomach.

—

we were watching
a bit of telly and her
favorite show was on
but she stopped and
turned to me and
began kissing me -
on the cheek then
lightly on the lips
then entering my
mouth and exploring
like Columbus but with
a sense of direction and her
show continued but she was more
interested in me and it seemed as if she
would never stop, would never quit.

—

the music from the party in the other room
rocked the bed the bass booming and she was
moving around in the darkness toward me, naked
and aware and knowing and she started moaning as
she melted into me – on top of me – and the music in
the next room rocked on as our bodies moved as one,
dancing but not moving around the room at all,
content with the moment we meshed and came
together for the third time in a row. it was a sign
and in the morning amidst the aftermath of the
party she sang to me while i made us breakfast.
it was the most beautiful song i’ve ever heard.

—

her hand moves
down there and
senses stirring,
not much needed
from her to get me
initiating the launch
sequence so to speak
and her thin, nimble
fingers moved, danced
across my lap, undoing
a snap, unzipping a zip
and her tongue rolls
across her bottom lip
as she looks away from
me and releases me from
my jeans and her hand moves
down down there and she
continues acting unaware
until i’m almost there and
she looks right at me at
just the right moment
and that moment is
forever burned into
my memory.

—

her name was jessica
and her hair was long
and blond and straight
and sometimes she
switched the style
she kept her hair
in and sometimes
she changed the
color but most
of the time, as
in all of the
time, i was
into her
look
what-
ever that
look might be,
not judging a book
by its cover i knew she
was hot under the covers,
her legs spread, her hair a
mess, her breath coming
short and in pants and
she looks up at me
and i can’t think
anymore and
the room
moves and
sways and
day after day
we replay the
scene in our
minds and
she always
has the look
no matter what
way she’s gone
with her hair that
particular day and
no matter what was
said or done in the
past no one can take
the moments we had
together, the moments
we spent together
coming together.

-Henry Cumski

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after work we both went away to another place
not always the bedroom or bathroom or in the
backyard but sometimes under the stars, under
the stairs, upstairs in the attic, on the roof,
howling at the moon as our bodies moved
together as one our stress coming undone
like her bra clasp and my pants and the
dance we dance as we pretend the moment
into something more than it originally was, we
work the after work moments into something that
can make us feel more erotic underneath our calm
cool business exteriors as we work the next day.

after work she would invite me over and we would
bitch and complain about all the other workers and
then the wine would go to our heads and we would
find ourselves dangerously close and our lips would
finally touch and all the stress of the workplace for
that one moment would fall away and our day would
be no more – only the night, only after work and the
way she worked her body against my body and the
sounds she made and the way her hair moved through
the air and breath escaped her in pants and moans and
work was no more as she finally saw me and moved
with me and took the stress away from me.

after work we both went our separate ways and i
wonder if the day would ever be real like that, if
she would ever think to do something like that
with me.

after work we both went our separate ways and i
wonder if the day would ever be real like that, is
he would ever get the courage to approach me and
ask me.

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