Poetry by Jeff Green


The Anniversary

by cricketjeff on April 11, 2008.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

Lying across the soft silk sheets, she waits, arms bound to the corners of the bed, not tightly, she can move but not touch herself, frustrated, the silk ropes hold her sensuously. Sliding on the silk she wishes she could close her legs but more silk bands keep her legs well spread.
Her lace covered body entices him, stiff, dark, nipples peaking through holes. They draw his tongue and he licks one. She squirms and the silk slides beneath her, caressing her bare bottom. With eyes covered like this, more silk, rich black silk. She has no idea where she will be touched next, all she can do is anticipate, and feel the cool, soft fabric against her skin, and the gentle scratch of the stiffer lace where it covers her.
He holds the silk handkerchief lightly and runs it up her leg, spreading it to cover her moistening pussy. Then, with his tongue starts to push it inside. She tenses, building rapidly to her climax, her breathing short, rasping. More and more silk inside her, his tongue more and more insistent, demanding. She can take no more
He stands, smiling, has her attention now. Silk covered hands play across her lacy body. Squeezing, teasing, tormenting. She does not know what to feel, still on a high, each intimate touch sends her higher. ecstasy calls her, the softness draws her, the bondage increasing the sensations.
He stops, looks at her, watches, worries – will he get it right, has to get it right tonight. Their pleasure is up to him alone.
She waits, she believes, he smiles.
He leans close, so close she can feel his breath moving over her, her breasts, her stomach, her mound, her thighs. She arches towards him, needing contact, wanting to feel the lace, soft against his hardness, he moves back, the tension builds.
He climbs onto the bed next to her, holds her, she feels his robe, it will be the red one, they found it together in Japan, the writing tells of love and honour, in gold. Gold on red silk like her tanned body on the red silk sheets.
She groans, wanting him, needing him, and the feel of the silk, still inside her where he left it, where she always wants it. This was special, their special day, long planned for long wanted. She had wanted him this way forever, he had taken time to learn. But he learned and loved her, and now he too loved the silk and the lace. As he entered her, the silk sliding over him like a soft and tender condom, he said, “Happy Anniversary Dear”, it is silk for the 12th isn’t it…

Author notes

They met exactly one year before they were married, and the 13th anniversary is lace…

For the erotic challenge, a story, on the theme silk/lace.