the first time
I was really with a woman
I ran my fingers through her dark hair
as she touched mine
you have such fine hair she told me
she kissed me her lips were soft
opened her mouth a little
I put my hand under her sweater
felt along her bra
we continue to kiss on my bed
she slipped out her top
I held her soft breasts
solid light but with weight substance
I circled the nipples with my thumbs
I had read Penthouse Playboy
I knew the mechanics
she pulled off my pants
more kissing touching
you’re a sweet kisser she told me
I put an hand on her leg
she moved it to her thatch
splayed my fingers
pushed them in one by one
that feels good she whispered
the folds were sticky
she held my cock
guided it in
I moved my hips in out
it was warm moist frictionless
she clenched with her leg muscles
breathed heavily into my ear
then we rolled apart
I didn’t come wasn’t even close
she smiled kissed me some more
touched me some more
I couldn’t wait to wash my hands
the first time
I was really with a man
never had read what to do
I knew exactly what to do
we tore each others clothes off
barely touching
my heart racing pulse pounding
so much friction I came
like a match being struck
Duncan Armstrong has pointed out to me that this is the first of many drafts that he plans for this poem.
