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These Proper Clothes

  

Woke panting and primed from a fleshy ordeal

Donned my proper clothes and casual heels

Needing to go, yearning for more

I skipped the panties and rushed out the door


I passed the newsstand and just caught the last bus

Can you see my bliss, did you see me blush?

Under this fine, pressed linen dress

Demons are dancing in fresh air’s caress


A storm surge is swelling behind this mirage

A mute vixen moans in this camouflage

Gooseflesh quivers under this skirt

Wrestling with lewdness I try to subvert


With mischievous grin, I dismount from my ride

Savoring warm air that slides up my thigh

The wind blows, it tussles your hair

While Eurus laps at my bare everywhere


I find a lover in the breath of Eros,

Street of spectators and nobody knows

Jaws would drop if they could behold

The orgy throbbing in these proper clothes.