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The Story of All of Us

The poetry of lust under an Italian sun

By Johnny SevenPublished 4 years ago 3 min read
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The bud burst when I saw you in Schio

I noticed your hair first

Falling in feminine fronds

Framing your beautiful crooked face

Hazelnut eyes shining from a walnut face

Your wide grin echoing the stones

Studded in your silver earrings

I remembered you with Ramboed headband

Coloured scarves

Bare feet

Wild hair

Your navel a belly-button

An “outy” distended

Not a sunken “inny’

I recalled your all-terrain sandals

You striding up the hill

Smartphone pressed against the bridge of your nose

Stretching your peripheral vision

Always working

Maximising the opportunity

In each pregnant moment

I’m reminded that we have slept beside each other twice now

In Lagolo with you above me

And Lido Rossello with you beside me

Never touching

Space for the night between us

I wanted to hold you tenderly

Feel you relinquish your tenacious

Grip on the day

And drop into the Dreamtime

I wanted to continue to

Gaze upon you

In your sleep

To slip into your dream

Slowly approach you from behind

Gently press my chest against your

Shoulder blades

Sweep your hair to one side

Inhale the heat

Rising from your neck

Place my hands on your hips

Ease your buttocks back against me

Feel my cock thicken in your crease

Slip my hands around your breasts

Roll your nipples

Between my thumbs

And middle fingers

My index fingers

Too direct for such a soft caress

Cup your breasts

Stroke your nipples with my thumbs

Feel them stiffen

Feel you yield

Feel your hand reach behind

Search for me and grasp

My shaft in your small hand

And squeeze

And pull

Feel me twitch

I want to slide your dress down your belly

Glide my palms from

Your chest to your groin

Slipping my right hand

Slowly into your pants

Taking a thousand years

To travel through the

Exquisite hinterland

Of your lower abdomen before

Encountering the first filaments of

Silken pubic hair

Soft, so soft

My heart crumbling as I begin to

Search within your folds

Feel you lean into me

Moving closer

Cloak you in my arms

Press my hardness

Into your softness

Squashing your hand

With my urgency

I’m breathless

My heart is racing

Sweat seeps from my pores

And sits patiently on my skin

A lubricant

Awaiting your touch

Your kisses on my parched body

Like fat raindrops quenching the

Dry Sicilian hillside

The gentle awakening of Persephone

Bringing forth the

Colours of Spring

Into the full Summer heat

That builds between your legs

As I locate the wetness of you

Flowing onto my hand

Inviting my fingertip to explore

Deep within you

“Grab it all” you rasp

And I do

I grab it all

Your cunt, your arse, your tits

Every filthy fucking inch of you

I could devour you

Bad big wolf

To your red, red hood

I would not stop

Until all of you had melted

Over my cock and drenched me

From my nipples to my knees

The call to life

The wrongness of it

The rightness of it

Having you

Not having you

Conquering you

Losing you

Loving you

Letting you go

Playing with the Devil

A dance with the Goddess

Beelzebub and Aphrodite

Losing their minds

In a golden, turquoise sea of

Love

Lust

Filth

Beauty

Taboo

Life

I cannot now think of you

Without the butterflies

Within me

Waking up

Fanning the flames of desire

Within the deepest part of me

Head, heart, loins

All catching fire

White hot with a

Craving for you that

Shows no sign

Of ever being able to diminish

This isn’t of me

Or of you

This is a tale

Told time and again

By travelers

And the idle

Keen to engage the

Kindness and good fortune

Of strangers

With stories

That tell the

Truth

Of all of us

erotic
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About the Creator

Johnny Seven

I'm a father, a writer, a poet, a musician, a traveller, a dancer, a lover of people and always visual.

I say "Everything I write is true". And it is. I'm also full of shit. At my best the shit is "quite entertaining".

I hate reading.

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