There is this guy. I will call him the Glassblower. I wrote a poem about him, back last year when we were dating. That poem is at https://eroticapoetica.wordpress.com/2013/02/17/blow-me/
The Glassblower, unlike my Colombian lover, or my would-be fiancé the Hyderabadi Nawab (who I have not written much about yet here), sits on the periphery of my love life. He is almost not involved in it at all. And yet every once in awhile he floats to the surface of my dreams and becomes a preoccupation for me.
I originally met him at my gym. My gym is not a fancy place, probably pretty standard for a gym, but in addition to exercise equipment it hosts a spa area with sauna, steam room, hot tub and indoor and outdoor pools. The outdoor pool is pleasant, hidden off the street in Pleasure Point (a popular surfing spot); it is flanked by palm trees, pools…
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You were sitting across from me
in a booth at the Pho place,
your noodles eaten,
your bowl almost empty,
and you leaned back,
tired, sank into the vinyl seat,
and a particular look
came over your eyes.
Your sleepy gaze cast a spell on me.
You whispered to me then
in the language of your body,
which I understand
all too well.
Your head told me
to run my fingers
through your short spiky hair.
Your smooth cheeks told me
to paint them
with hungry little kisses.
Your lap told me to
Your mouth told me
to fill it with my pretty pink nipple.
Your hands told me to abandon myself
to your touch,
to give up everything,
spread myself wide
and receive sensation.
I am a good girl, you know.
When you speak to me like this,
I can’t help
My love potion is made of:
geranium, mandarin orange, lemon, cardamom, sandalwood, patchouli, ylang ylang, and jasmine oils,
as well as other ingredients:
the surprising perseverance
of an oft-broken heart.
I am an uncommon sorceress,
love my only spell.
I will weave my dazzling web of dreams
for you to catch upon.
And once you do,
let the games begin.
You must be terribly manly
to arouse my seductive passions.
But if you charm me,
I will take you
against my bosom like an eternal mother — a cute little mamacita, that is,
and hold you there in the thrall
of luscious pleasure,
spreading the length of my curves against you,
in all the right places.
I will feast upon you lavishly, leaving no part of you untasted,
open the mouth of myself wide for you,
swallow you heartily down.
I will cook you your favorite foods.
My tongue will fill your ear
with kind words of encouragement,
with decadent flattery,
I will make myself delicious to you.
Soon you will begin to crave me
on your tongue.
You will become addicted
to my love.
So drink a sip of my love potion.
Then let the games begin…