Tuesday Night, enter my room, 10:30 p.m.
CrickCrick, CrickCrick, CrickCrick, CrickCrick–
But it’s Tuesday.
These creaking intervals & level of creak crick intensity. Particularly, those quick crickety creaks, indicate that Tuesday is a new night to stay out. Or, to listen to music loudly.
Now, no sound.
No more creaking comes from up above.
There’s a new man! with Lucky Lady, Upstairs.
Or, by the sound of it, maybe not so much.
My imagination drifts to the scenes taking place up above me.
“Oooh, it’s okay.” Pats softly on his belly. Or, would she? Sounds more like a cheer leader than one who gives Constructive Criticism. I wonder: did her Mother ever know any Better…
Too bad his Father never showed him how to do it differently. He may not have known either. His sons will. Daughters too!
I am reminded of my own fleeting frigidity. Encounters such as these stand as trophies of my Self Imposed Celibacy. Not so much from the fear of being fucked. No, I wise enough!! To stay away in knowing how bad it would suck. Most likely.
Of course there was that burn of a bang which left a Big Scar. Not so sizzling hot.
Matters of the Mind…
Wednesday Afternoon– my office downstairs, 5:20 p.m.
Grim faced old man approaches the window via stairway. Does he know about Mr. Tuesday?
He wouldn’t smile at me anyway.
My heart goes out to the Lucky Lady, Upstairs. Not one of those men Love Her Right. Not from my viewpoint
Click click, click click. Click click, click click. Heal click click toe. Heal, toe- click click, heal, toe, click click. Click click, click click. Oh! How the high healed heal toe clicks as the heal toe high heals of Lucky Lady, move up the paved walkway.
She should know how to take control.
How to gently coax some sort of bedroom negotiation… Why does she just take it?
Her pained, thought filled face grabs me. My gaze goes down her deep V neck. Baring her pale fleshed breasts, framed by a cotton red dress.
She is Voluptuous.
: ) ( :