Beauregard’s Driveway

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I felt a slight brush, an excuse-me touchbeneath the awning of dark cloudsa summer storm was brewing in Alabamawith the devil’s hammer banging loud the Spanish moss hung deathly stillthe bees returned to their combseven the locusts gave up the ghostas the timid scurried to their homes I’d stayed in town to avoid the rushand the air was stifling hot                                                                    the asphalt softened into mushon Beauregard’s driveway lot happy hour passed with the duskI lingered with nary a carethe scent of women wearing muskfilled the acrid air she wore a tight little black dresswith a slit cut up a mileI swirled isveçbahis the olive in my glassand let loose a winsome smile she returned it with the slyest winkbut she burned for another nearwhose hand deftly slid her drinkacross mahogany bleached with beer the lights flickered in the stormwhile I watched her reveal her thighshe raised her glass which clinked with hisand they rejoined in a beer-hall cry I turned and glared across the barto a reflection in the mirrorit turned its back and wouldn’t bearmy cold laconic leer and as my bar-stool spun aroundI caught the fleeting sightof stumbling legs in a little black dressdeparting in the isveçbahis giriş night the barkeep palmed his paltry tipand wiped the drinks they spilledI finished mine with one last sipanother lonely evening killed my martini slammed its empty glassupon the wormwood barI paid my tab then hauled my assand left to find my car haloed streetlights lit my waytheir bright reflections gleamedfrom puddles that I jumped and dodgedas the cooling pavement steamed but from the corner of my eyeI spied them in the darkher dress was hiked above her thighbehind her he was arced her naked ass was hoisted highwith every thrust he pliedher body shook with isveçbahis yeni giriş a gasping cryas he plunged himself inside I stood and watched their coital trystfrom the shadows of a truckwhen he exposed her tits with groping fistsI stiffened at my luck her ample bosoms bounced aboutwith each impaling thrustI whipped my rigid member outand stroked with carnal lust but as I hid, with trousers downso carefully concealeda backing car, with headlights onmy bashful act revealed she saw me standing in the lightmy raging cock unboundand to my unrestrained delightI heard her voice resound: “Come on over!  Join us, dear!”that’s really what she saidand then I woke, my chin in my beerand shook my bleary head (c) 2017 – Bethany Frasier & Adagio Many thanks to Adagio for the idea, the title, and the kernel of the first five stanzasfrom which this corny poem developed and grew.             

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