Undressing

Have you ever had an experience you were too naïve to understand or appreciate? So erotic, but you were too insecure to just let it be and embrace it? I relive the following experience in my head over and over again. It’s been 25 years, yet when I close my eyes I am transported back to that little bedroom with that amazing young man I was completely mad about yet unable to love the way he wanted and deserved. I’ve had this written for a while but couldn’t quite get the style of it the way I wanted. I didn’t want a poem or a long story so I was left with breaking the rules.

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Standing in the middle of a dark room,

nearly pitch black

and I can’t see a thing.

But I can feel him,

his breath against my neck,

his hands gently caressing me.

I tingle all over.

My breath grows shallow.

No words.

He stands in front of me.

Close enough for me to reach out and touch,

but I don’t dare.

The buttons on my blouse

slowly, ever so slowly,

come undone.

His hand glides across my shoulder

pushing my blouse off.

Next, the other shoulder

then he pulls the sleeves

one at a time

and lets it fall to the floor.

Gentle kisses on my neck,

my collarbone,

as his hands now move lower.

The pop of another button

precedes the sound of a zipper,

my zipper,

slowly going down.

Achingly slow.

I hear every catch of the zipper as he goes.

Two hands now move across my hips

down the back of my jeans

pushing them down,

past my behind,

down to my knees.

Lift, he says.

One foot,

then the next,

as my jeans join my blouse

on the floor.

His arms are around me now

tugging at the clasp

of my bra.

Easily unhooked

it is swept from my shoulders

and drops to the floor.

The pile of shed clothing grows.

He cups each breast,

squeezes

and kisses them tenderly.

My nipples ache for more

but I dare not ask.

I am a good girl,

I don’t do such things.

He kneels in front of me

and slips his hands

under the waistband of my panties.

His hands slide down my thighs

bringing the soft fabric with them.

Lift, he says again.

One foot,

then the other,

and I am naked.

He leans in now,

buries his head

between my legs.

I tremble

nervously,

yet completely turned on.

Soft moans escape

as his tongue makes contact.

Oh my!

Off his knees now,

he kisses me

before taking my hand

and walking me over to the bed.

He pulls the sheets back

and sits me down.

I hear the sounds of his clothes

now being removed

and left in their own

crumpled pile on the floor.

Gently,

tenderly,

he takes me.

 

 

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7 thoughts on “Undressing

  1. This is utterly beautiful…..

    ~Mia~ xx

  2. Gosh, absolutely breathtaking!
    Rachel x

  3. This is stunning, and hot. Such a precious memory. Thanks for sharing!

    Rebel xox

  4. dirksayers

    Would we go back to “then,” to immerse ourselves in our earliest experiences, knowing what we know now? Or are they better left cherished as they are? Thanks so much for sharing, SK!

    • I believe they are better cherished as they are. As the saying goes, “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”

  5. Lovely poem; beautifully crafted 😉

  6. Gorgeous piece! I could get lost for days on your blog, looking forward to digging deeper.

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