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New Orleans, LA
  • An angel sat on the edge of my bedHer breasts nestling soft in ivory
    coloured fabricCradling themYet leaving most of their beauty
    exposedRevealing glimpses of cream-white fleshTantalizing in the
    dead-of-night glimmerHer face cast downwardsEyes avoiding mineBut
    surely not through modestyThis was an act of kindnessFor she knew that
    if my eyes met hersThen she would trap meAnd I should forever be a
    prisoner of some dreadful destinyShe was trying to save meBut I was
    beyond savingIt was too lateI was ensnared by the erotic beauty of her
    nipplesBlush-pink against the soft full whiteness of her bosomAn
    apparition that must have trapped a thousand men before meSending them
    masturbating to their doomAnd then a noiseA quiet rustling as her
    stockinged legs moved gentlyAcross the sheets of my sleeping-placeAnd
    shocked into consciousness by the knowledge that she was realI realized that
    this angel was the woman with whom I had recently sleptHer secret lips still
    moist with the sperm of my loveTogether we had

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