Rick Belden confesses everything she makes him feel.
she says she’s a writer
she tells me
I’m nasty can you handle it
she slides out of her leather skirt
she pins me into a chair in the corner
she looks me right in the eyes
she rubs her body all over mine
she says
you like head don’t you
she touches my hardness through my pants + says
impressive
she tells me about her dreams
she wears a black push-up bra
she asks me
do you like to tit fuck
she grabs my cock through my pants over + over
she says
you like to fuck from behind doggie style
in front of a mirror don’t you
she turns me on
she scares the hell out of me
she gives me the teeth chatter chills
she gives me the first date shits
she makes me wait forever
she says
imagine you’re inside me right now
she takes my hands off her breasts when I
try to touch them
she tells me she knows it’s a power trip
she says
I can tell you’re a great lover ’cause
you have a very sensitive cock
she lets me run my hands up her
thighs + around her cheeks
she has a catholic father + a baptist mother
she laughs about her sins
she jokes about confession
she tells me this is safe sex
she says
slide down in the chair so I can
rub against your crotch
she knows a lot about me somehow
she tells me
you’re too hot to stay in an unhappy relationship
she puts her clothes back on
she says goodnight
she walks away
she gives me back
something I thought was lost for good
something I thought I didn’t
deserve anymore anyway.
she leaves me
hot hard swollen animal-buzzing
electrified + alive again at last.
Excerpted from Iron Man Family Outing: Poems about Transition into a More Conscious Manhood by Rick Belden. Copyright © 1990, 2008 by Rick Belden. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License. www.rickbelden.com
Image of mistress on a couch courtesy of Shutterstock
About Rick Belden
Wow, this is amazing. I’ve liked your stuff before, Rick, but man, this piece took my breath away.
I really like how you’ve stripped out a lot of the extra words that would bog down the poem and gave us the raw feelings.
Wow!
Thanks, Deanna. This encounter took place many years ago and I was realizing, in reading the poem again this morning, that I have almost no recollection of what the woman looked like. The one detail I do recall is that she was far more of a classic “girl next door” type than the rather cartoonish caricature of an aggressively sexual woman shown in the photo. And she was smart as a whip.
The fact that I was taken by storm (and by surprise) by a woman I might have worked with or seen standing in line at the grocery store greatly amplified the erotic power of the experience for me. I may not remember what she looked like, but I’ll never forget what she made me feel.