Poetry On The Grass

One day I went to a poetry in the park event.  A group of people were gathered around, some on lawn chairs, some sitting on the ground, and various people got up to read their poems.  It was interesting that after almost dozing off for a while on a nice summers day, I started to notice something.  There was a woman reading a poem she wrote, which seemed to be a simile and metaphor for sexual feelings, and ****** and everything else like that, and not only was she reading it in public, but another woman stood up and recited another one.  Oh my gosh, and then it went back to other kinds of poetry, and I would have drifted off, except that I started chatting with a nice woman with brown curly hair, a green blouse and jeans who had been one of the erotic poets.  We ended up walking across the park to a nearby coffee shop, and talking some more.  Then we ended up somewhere on a bed at her place, and I was licking her *****, getting my nose in the hairs, and stroking her clitoris and labia with my tongue.  She was having a great old time, and soon enough, I put my **** inside, but I didn't do more than move back and forth, and when I felt the trembling begin, we grasped each others hands tightly and I held it off once, and then twice, but the third time, I collapsed as the pressure of warm fluid surged up inside of me and filled her with baby making juice.  We hugged and kissed for a long time, but then she said good bye and I said bye -- but she said shh... you don't know my name.
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May 9, 2012