The Bus Ride
You know how it is, no eye contact,she sat near him on the 54A, try to catch his eye,
every day in the hope of a glance, just one chance,
to catch his eye,
then one Monday she saw in the 54A window's refection,
his face looking at her, eye to eye,
eye to eye over a coffee that day,
she asked him back to her's
his hands on her hips he pulled her close
she felt his girth push and pull,
she felt him roll and rock,
she felt much needed balls and cock,
she clenched her teeth, screwed up her eyes,
she moaned and moaned and moaned,
he serviced her needs,
the mirror on the wall reflected,
two as one swinging and swaying,
you know how it is, no eye contact,
he couldn't make her look his way,
each day on the 54A,
she was looking at a bloke with a hat,
fancy that,
being serviced by a bloke with a hat.
Poetry by JohnJohn
Read 723 times
Written on 2017-06-24 at 09:02




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Texts |
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