In the Mood?

The taxi stuttered through traffic as she

tried to put herself in the mood for her

lunch with her lover but she kept

glancing at her phone in case Tommy’s

cough had turned worse at school or the

bloody boiler-man decided to return her

many calls.

But then she remembered her husband’s last

desultory touch, the drip of the

en suite tap, the unmown lawn, the

deep ache she had to be

properly penetrated, so she

switched off her phone and

willed herself wet.

Forgetful Me

It was just forgetfulness I swear and the

daily domestic disaster of getting

two boys and a girl to school, a

days shopping planned, the heat that

made sense of the short sundress.

It wasn’t until the escalator in the Mall and the

soft whistle from below that I discovered that my

knickers were beautifully ironed in their

proper drawer but not on me and I

flushed as I wondered what they could see, those

men down there, looking.

The higher I went the more they would see and

I was suddenly wet thinking of it, wondering if I was

well-groomed, wanting desperately to

root in my bag for something I didn’t need and

pondering whether I owned

enough shoes.

High Heels

When I watch her with someone else I

love her in high heels, seeing how they

raise her to the right height to take his

length from behind, but

when it is me I prefer her

barefoot, her weight

teetering on her toes as she

flexes and pushes up whilst I

make her mine again.

Blindfold

The car journey at night through

soft suburbia would have been

uneventful except for the

blindfold, the strong

insistence of his hand guiding her

up steps, the smells of a

new house, the silent existence of

others, the unspoken desire for her to

kneel, open her mouth and

wait.

Early or Late?

Their son was far away and

incommunicado when her husband

died suddenly and her

beloved was buried and the

funeral accoutrements long forgotten when he

came back tall and tanned and

suddenly solidly grown up

wrapping her in a thoroughly

masculine embrace which made her

gasp and moisten despite her

despair and the impropriety but

making her think that it

wasn’t too late though perhaps it was

too early.

May I?

“May I?” he asked and that was so

polite she let him and each

“Please?” earned him a

smiling nod until her

smile was all that clothed her so

looking at his still clad body and

in the interests of balance

she asked, “May I?”