I sit in a chair and nurse my baby. No she's not a baby and she's really just playing, our last few weeks of nursing and I have only a few teaspoons of milk left. My tight, taut, huge mother breasts are gone. But she still loves the experience of it. She raises my shirt up to expose both breasts and says "I like it, I like it." She grins at my two breasts. She says "I want two nurse-a-bit places." She places her cold hands in the cavern between my two breasts and she says "Hot. Mama is hot." Perhaps this is a memory that will reside somewhere in her body to resurface when, much older, she becomes sexual and breasts become full of erotic meanings. Right now its just mama's body, fun to play with, nourishing, warm, close, fun to squeeze, intimate.
I close my eyes when we are done and cuddle with her in front of the wood fire. My mind shifts and I drift with images in my mind. Images from the past, from long before I was a mother, long before my breasts fed a tiny infant and later a toddler. I remember a bar with wood fire and a pool table and dancing with a man. The bar is called the Duchess, probably its still there.
We dance a Cajun waltz, a seductive three step dance. Our crotches and hips nestle against each other. Nice, smooth movements and the growing erectness between us. I'm shorter than he by 6 inches or and so I feel him jutting around my navel. A strong, thick branch resting there. I look up at him and we smile with our eyes, but say nothing. No acknowledgement of what is there, just a tiny bit more pressure and rubbing. I feel my vulva turn to sticky cake batter, ready to drip, needing a man's hand to cup it. I know that if we were somewhere else, he would undo his penis and slip it up inside my shorts. For I know that neither of us has any underwear on. We have left them in the car. The next song is a two-step and we move a little farther apart and sink in with the sensuous music. I look straight at his eyes. I am acutely aware of the erectness again there between us-only a cocks width from me.
When he is in tight jeans like now, his erection usually goes down the inner part of his right thigh because he wears no underwear to keep it nestled up. Sometimes, though he adjusts it up against his zipper to make his hardness less conspicuous. When he has done that I know that if I were to dip my fingers slightly into the top of his pants that his head and its circling ridge will be right there, held tightly against his navel, waiting, wanting to spring out, wanting freedom.
Some penises, when erect, are like weighted dolls, always bouncing back upright, always trying to snuggle up against their mans' belly, exposing their underside and their ridge. But I know his isn't like that. He is big and when he's erect, his penis juts straight out, straight at its target. I wonder what an erect penis feels like to a man. Does it feel a part of him, of his body, or separate? The head of a penis seems so far out there, separate, out on its own.
The music ends and we part. He asks if I want to play a game of pool. When I take the first break, I bend over, knowing that he is behind me, watching. We play a few turns and then I bend over, caress the end of the stick and begin to line the balls up. His finger comes up under my shorts to the crease between my vulva and thigh and he strokes, just a little stroke. My shot goes wild and he comes around and grins at me. He takes a turn and while he aims I walk over to my beer, pick it up and gently run my tongue around the rim. Then I put my whole mouth over it. He tries to hit the ball, but right before he shoot he looks up at me and the cue scratches along the edge of the felt. I remember once his housemate told me that she felt sorry for the women who are overtly sexual like I have just been. I have always wondered if she was referring to me. It doesn't' matter, I love sex games like this. I am playing a game with my lover and its our game.
My turn again and I take the cue stick, fondle it up and down and then bend over, making sure I am right in front of me. No pretense of actually playing pool anymore. He comes over and slides his hands up my tank top and encircles my breasts, pushing against my ass with his groin. He releases my right breast for a moment and I feel him unzipping his pants, then he presses again up through my shorts and I feel him enter me, just a tiny bit.
Laughter echoes in the adjacent room where they are watching a ball game. We part, both breathing heavily and adjust ourselves. Not a moment too soon, because someone comes in and watches our game. I focus again on the game, although my mind is in my body, its deep inside my pelvis. We play badly, to the end, where he wins and is challenged by the man who has entered the room. I know that later we will go outside the back door, in the dark and finish what we have begun.
