Fresh Pressed Words

 

He is orange juice

Sweet, with just enough tart

To please the tongue

And ease these legs apart

Makes me feel 

Different for once 

Just tonight

His eyes invite me to be

Not the good girl

Our little secret

Finger to lips

Sly wink

I think

I like the sound of this

The feel of his rind

Beneath my nails 

As I peel off layer 

After layer

Laying waste to inhibitions

Clothes are close to missing

Listen closely 

So he knows I'm ready

To labor under the hot sun

To pluck some 

Good from 

His limbs

Long, laid out before me

And he tastes sharp

Breaks hard

Into pieces

Sweet

Juice releases

Something fragrant

Around us

It’s found us

Found me up to my knees

In fine fresh fruit filling

My hands

Small but with plans

To offer fresh flesh

To lips

Filter seeds with teeth

Keep

All the wet sweet

Just for me

Citrus love

Touching tongues

He comes

Around

From behind to talk

To tell

To tease

His secrets

Softy at my ear

He says that I

Am getting good

At bad

And that

Perhaps

I need a little

Punishment

Pressed

Against

This apple bottom

Got him

Telling me that I’m that one

That needs the love

That he is of

A good mind

To bite into my sweet

His white teeth

Bared, will not spare

Me, likely

He will have his just desserts

All across this lap

He laughs

And it’s the worst

The way he makes me beg

For him, in in, I admit

My thirst

Please be gentle

Go, go

Settle now my nerves

They’re never wetter

He eats slow

Around the edges

Till he gets to my core

And God help me

I’m emptied

And he promises

More

Fills the spaces

Patient

Takes his

Time

Exploring my

Skin

Him in his natural habitat

My body land

And he reaps and gleans

What’s left of me

Magic in his hands

A man

Who knows this earth

He takes this land

And slowly works

Till I sing spring off these lips

And apple blossoms

Slip

Slow

Off my limbs

And I’m hard pressed

When he’s asks to have

Me for breakfast

I’m helpless

To say anything but yes

I’m willing and able

He is sweet and tart

Like orange juice

That’s used

To owning its place

At the table

Yes please take me

Make me

Into something new

Apple pie

Dreams seem likely

To come true

Dig in

Darling

Sticky fingers

Are the truth

Are the proof

He got the temp just right

Just like he likes

Get his fill of me till we

Are both too full to move

My mouth wet with orange zest

And his

With apple juice