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.
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