An oily, scented throng blankets the sand.
Wild breaking waves submerging trifling chat.
My eyes on all but pages in my hands,
Surveying beauty clad in polyester.
No ray of sun strikes lovely skin as one
That bakes her back and legs like lobster tail.
Were I to peel her green bikini down,
I would unveil a stripe lost from Old Glory.
If less restrained, I'd dive right at that band
And soon complete this work of solar art.
I would create a glow that'd please Van Gogh
With strokes of two quintuply bristled brushes.
Alas, the public eye enchains my arms.
But in my mind, I'm master of the beach.
On my estate, we bathe in sand and sea
Alone, unseen, unchecked by social precepts.
I cross my sand domain and reach my neif.
The woman's startled by my touch. She turns
Her head, returns my dev'lish smile. For sure,
She knows the rights allowed her lord and lover.
I stroke and squeeze, pleased at the catch in hand.
My fingers curl to furl the green away.
Then hands return to glide across the flesh.
She coos and hums at such manipulation.
The gentle touch of chilly air, of hand,
Of knowing my intents bristles her skin.
I softly place a kiss upon each cheek.
And there upon the shore begin the splashing.
I slap and slap again her waxy cheeks.
Our hearts accelerate, our blood does rise.
She gazes back at me, her eyes trepid,
A feeble mask that fails to hide desire.
The splendent sun, in flooding flesh in light,
Upon her suppl'ly rippling skin gives sheen,
Betrays the glist'ning of her lips beneath,
And helps to draw the blush to coat the canvas.
Staccato pulses pierce the rush of waves.
My easel sings as I apply my art
And there, along the cheering water, smile,
Sensing my masterpiece approach completion.
Credits:
- Photo of nude lady siting on rocky beach courtesy of Wild Ride, via Favored by a Princess, original author unknown. (Eros Unbound post).
- Photo "Bronzette" courtesy of These Are Butts, original author unkown. (Eros Unbound post).
- Photo "Ah, summer..." by Solomon, via Papiers Gras (Eros Unbound post).
