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I know your watching

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I walk through the door and lock it

I’ve waited all day long for this

Slowly building and building

Finally up the stairs

I’m addicted to this twisted play I put on-  

Dimming the lights, I’m ready for the show-                     

Standing in front of my window I peer out, Are you ready?

I can see your compliance from the bushes,

As I slowly remove this white shirt and fling it,

Hands sliding up my stomach and wrap around my neck,

Then coming down to meet below my belly button,

I know your watching,

My hands play with the button of my jeans in anticipation,

“Finally” I can hear you say as the button opens and zipper comes down,

Slowly I pull them down to my ankles and kick them off,

I know your watching,

I stand before you a carnal image; I wore these for you-

The woman at the store said any man would love them,

Small black lace, barely covering…

I know you’re watching.

My hair pinned back all day, uniform.

I remove the pins and consume my hair in my hands,

I pull it and shake it, rough it up-

I know your watching, crouched down in the bushes,

I know you get off on this, this show I put on,

But do you know I get off on this too,

It’s twisted, it’s wrong; I feel dirty but I like it,

The end of the show, I deviously rub my hands down...

Down my warm body and quiver in release,

With a sensual smile I close the shades and say to the dark-

I don’t know your name my voyeur friend-

But I like this warped love affair between us.

Comments (1)

This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

I wrote this same exact poem the other day except from the other point of view. God I love this window, Thank You.

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