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She sits between me and my breakfast. She wears a knee-length T-Shirt and her legs are bare. I don’t know what undies she’s wearing. They might be white, pink or yellow. I can feel them and her, against my crotch. She’s sitting in my lap, her leg straddling mine.
Hungry? she asks.
You’re not anymore?
I don’t know what I’m hungry for.
She grinds her pussy against the crotch of my dungarees.
Too bad you have to go to work.
A real shame, she says.
She bites my lip, smiles mischievously, seductively rises from my lap and twists my shirt before letting it go.
····day the odor of my lover’s cunt—lap
Redbud | February 1 2017