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.
