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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 13, 2016

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Submitted: July 13, 2016



Fenola is washing up

the dishes after dinner,


Eileen watches her

from the table

in the kitchen,


Fenola talking about

her day at work,


about something

someone did or said,


but Eileen is watching

Fenola's body move,


the way the hands


lift and plunge

in the soapy water,


the way her hips

move so sexually,


the tight bottom,

the way the skirt

holds her,


the black tights,


she thinking of later

after supper,


in bed,


after talk and kisses,


then thinks

of the night before,


the lights out

(just moonlight through

the slit in the curtains),


the perfume of her,


the kisses on her body,


the exploration

of each body in turn

or at the same time,


the soft words

of encouragement,


the later messages

of yes and yes

and there and there,


then Fenola turns

and says:

and her husband didn't

even remember

their anniversary

silly fool,


and she(the wife) said

he'd be for it

or rather he wouldn't,


and laughs

and Eileen laughs too,


taking in the shaking bosoms

as she does,


the sweet little piglets

lying there,


and all Eileen can do

at present

is stare.

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