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Message-ID: <42021asstr$1051092607@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Sean Farragher" <sfarragher@nj.rr.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} TxM6: Sexual Improvisation and Raunch  #3
Date: Wed, 23 Apr 2003 06:10:07 -0400
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(c) 2003 Sean Farragher
http://www.seanfarragher.com
http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook
http://www.seanfarragher.com/Joss
http://www.seanfarragher.com/hyperfiction
sfarragher@nj.rr.com

Buzz the vibrator caught the lip of the slip of the furrow and rolled around
paradise all day. She was turning her hips rocking them back and twist until
the way her skin open, as a window inside, into the speculum into the pushing
of the tampon inside, and pulling the string out and throwing that gift over
shoulder before plunging inside and rocking rocking the earth with a tortured
step by step. She stood there with the string hanging down and I drew the
model composed. I was twenty, and the arts students league was a dusty new
york city hive, and later when I found her on the A train steps, same dress,
same life, and I knew my girlfriend waited home patiently studying, and she
smiled, and said, I know what you wanted. I did it on purpose. I wonder which
artist would stare at and never stop. You did. You were not afraid and I think
I almost wanted to pull it out on the tableau stage and dangle it in front of
your nose and then some woman behind me said, quietly I have spare to help you
if you need to change, and I laughed because I knew I was three months
pregnant and it was a ruse. As the A train roared into the station, she said
hurriedly, come home with me, I want to fuck you. I had ten seconds to decide,
and I said no, I cant. I never saw her again. When I got back to my rooms
uptown my lady was lounging and said she was unwell. My friend she said was
here. I told her I don't care she is welcome to my teeth, and she laughed as
she always did when I was the dirty man, and she was the pure girl who fucked
me on her father's couch and I dribble down the arms as well. When I was young
and carefree the cheap poem proclaims, and young among the barns where horses
raise their forelegs and crush the maid. I watched my lover's eyes and
imagined her desire as he plunged within to the depth of pain. She was
breathing hard, and I was lost. The woman with the tampon struck a cord, and
that night with Theresa in my arms I wondered at the model's smile and
promised myself I'd find her somehow, but never chance release my claim and I
never felt the quick, the soft plum of her hairy pose. I love the way women
brush their pubic hair before they masturbate with glee.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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