fauxcroft

Crisp starched clothes,

White cotton blouse,

Tight white pencil skirt,

Long blonde satin hair,

Long slender legs,

White lace underwear.

This is what she wore,

As she sat alone at home

On her laptop and mobile phone

And as she typed out her research,

She loosened and undid her blouse,

Exposing breasts and lacey bra.

She felt sexy, so  she caressed

And touched herself gently, bit by bit

And as she typed about spiritual matters

And thought about love and light,

She pulled up her skirt though is quite tight.

And as she typed about compassion

Her mind wander off the track

And caressed he thighs and shut her eyes

And tilted her head right back,

She massaged her breasts with both hands firmly,

Then parted and stretched her legs

And felt the sense of power flowing

In a way she enjoyed best.

She slipped one hand down and thought of the energy

Coursing through her body,

Felt the engorging of her being

As blood raced to sensual parts

And as she stimulated herself,

Her thoughts went universal,

Thinking of the immense cosmic spirits

As they touched and nourished her,

She imagined all the cosmic waves

Along with impassioned flames,

Set her heart on fire

And set her soul a flame.

The heat rose and her sinews stretched

As her body writhe and arched

And within her chair and in the dark,

Wave after wave did pass,

Ripping through her body

And her clothes that were neatly starched,

We’re now a soaked sweated crumpled mess

But she didn’t even care,

Her lackey panties pulled aside 

Her bra beneath her breasts,

She laughed at how ridiculous

She probably at this moment looked.

But as she basked in the heat and moistened

Clothes and within the room,

She smiled and decided to write a piece

On her sensual bloom

And how intense it can be when in a spiritual place

And how it leaves a sense of satisfaction 

Etched upon the face.
Via: Daily Prompt: crisp