THE VOYEUR
I know you are there, for you are always there!
Is it because I’m young and oh so hot,
and ache all day with longing to be kissed
and dream all night of lovely smooth-skinned boys
and rigid cocks of muscled men that squirt
with lust for me as often as I wish?
I know you are there, for you are always there…
outside my window looking in each night,
watching my shadow writhing on the blind,
baring my body in a lewd lascivious dance,
casting off my garments one by one
until I fall down panting on my bed,
clutching my pillow high between my thighs,
riding to the rhythm of your unseen hand.
I know you are there, for you are always there!
I hear your footsteps on the lonely street
following the slender clicking of my heels.
and feel your eyes caress my stockinged legs
crawling like fingers up my shapely calves.
I have no fear – I know you mean no harm.
With throbbing heart I sometimes stop beside
some dark and gloomy doorway, looking back,
hoping to see your figure, tall and slim,
coming to join me, there where I can let
you use me in the shadows as you please.
But you are gone, once more the street is still.
You wait until I hurry on once more.
I know you are there, for you are always there!
Walking homeward through the park at night,
I hear you in the bushes by the path,
where copulating couples moan and squeal
and gaudy women suck the cocks of men
who pay to grunt and sweat in loveless lust.
I often rest on a favourite bench and wait
until your rustling stops behind my back,
and then I hear you whisper dirty things
behind the ancient oak tree near at hand.
Such filthy things I clench my legs and gasp.
But then I think it could be just the breeze.
I know you are there, for you are always there…
in the shadows of the alley near my school
where I often go to pet with boys I like.
I know you watch them kiss my willing mouth,
pushing their tongues between my teeth to touch
the slow soft languid squirming of my own.
And when their eager hands begin to roam,
squeezing my breasts to make me pant and moan,
I know you’re creeping closer hot to watch
them groping up my skirt to feel me there.
I hunt inside their trousers for their cocks
and as we start to mutually masturbate
I feel your heavy breathing on my neck.
And when the sperm squirts warmly on my leg
and fingers make me come with whimpering sobs,
I turn my head to see you do it too,
but only empty ash cans meet my gaze.
I know you are there, for you are always there…
and I long to know what heats your lust for me.
Is it the silky softness of my hair
you’d like to feel around your throbbing cock?
Or do you wish to suck my little breasts.
with hardened nipples aching to be touched,
protruding through my satin blouse like nuts?
Or shall I hold you tight between my legs,
and rub my stockings up and down your heat.
My sweet young mouth is yours, of course, to kiss
(I’ve never sucked a man before, just boys,
but I would do that gladly if you wish…)
I know you are there, for you are always there!
Tonight I shall sit beneath the ancient tree
in the shadows of the darkened park alone
and ever so slowly touch myself for you
beneath my skirt, and up between my thighs
into the warm moist heat that waits for you,
fingering the bursting fig of my desire,
whispering all the while your unknown name.
I know you are there, for you are always there!
Come, come… oh, darling, come for me!
JULIA
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