by Ed Makowski
She always got home
later than us
we'd be laying there
in the dark
with the windows open
and begin to hear it again
giggling and shuffling
then the clothes would come off
and they'd move to the bed
at first she'd coach the guy,
her voice encouraging like a
preschool teacher
you could hear her grin through the wall
she'd begin making sounds,
light gasps became gentle sighs
that elongated into moans and
rolled their way into
big flopping orgasms
at some point we'd hear the guy
for about ten seconds
sound tortured
then sigh and
roll over
we'd giggle about it
and sometimes, just for fun,
decide to compete
with them
Mary's moaning wound down, then
someone would get up for
the bathroom
the next morning
my girl would begin to cook breakfast.
She was great like that.
Mary would come out of her room
find two glasses and
pour something to drink, then
lean against the kitchen counter in underwear
grinning like a queen post-douche.
moments later
a guy I'd never seen before
would lumber into the kitchen
make a point to shake my hand
and introduce himself as though
he thought I cared and
it meant something
I'd look over at my girl
handling a kitchen utensil
and our eyes would share a laugh
Mary would flit around the apartment
her big dull breasts shaking
nipples erect through a tanktop, while
the guy would try to decide
how to go about it
one morning
my girl left for work
and I stayed in her bed
nearly until noon.
When I woke up
there was no other guy.
I sat on the couch
pulling on my boots
those same flopping breasts
nipples jiggling through a white tank top
with each step
Mary smiled and talked small things while
wearing tiny underwear
and strutting around the apartment,
telling me she
had the entire day off.
She grinned at me and shrugged,
"No plans at all..."
I watched her breasts move
and wondered if that hurt.
Her hard nipples I'd seen
a hundred times
now grinning at me
While watching her butt wiggle
walking around her house
small shiny panties
I thought about it
but not too hard
December 7, 2008
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2008
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December
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- 1957
- our waitress at the farm themed restaurant
- SquamousCell Carcinoma
- HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS
- my father's drawer in the basement
- driving the wedge
- & alarm bells keep ringing
- getting dirty
- Jack Palance
- PUMP AND LADDER
- today, at the hospital
- what makes their eyes go dead?
- chapter one of my seventeenth life
- She Doesn’t Deserve This
- Bourbon Burlesque
- FORTUNATE SON
- DID WE?
- A moment in time
- Concrete jungle
- LOOKING FOR WORK, WEEK 5
- Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
- WRECK
- COWARDS
- What I Saw When I Thought I Was Having a Heart-Attack
- Untitled Dream That Led Me To Stop Believing
- No Catchy Title
- Toe Salad
- sipping a screwdriver at the ghetto bar half mile ...
- Mary through the wall
- George W. Bush Ate My Pussy Then Paid Me $10,000
- monarchy no more
- My Train
- I felt like a hamburger
- NOT YET, BUT SOON
- Goldpussy
- Fractured Like Thin Glass And Glued Together Again
- Ho-sehs run
- Franco Nero
- The Lakeside Lounge
- something like chekhov
- water on the brain
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