Behind Closed Doors

It’s a main squeezer, tense-bellied teaser
Pushing the tainted pleasure-receiver;
Curl your toes, you white-eyed believer,
And widen your stance: this one’s a heaver.

You issue a gasp, or maybe a sigh–
A moaning reminder why you’re tense-thighed–
Or maybe a groan, a prayer to the sky:
A mantra in tongues, in curses and cries.

It’s starting to surface, rumbling within,
A sign that something is coming again.
Abdomen-tensing, the room starts to spin;
Chin up and tensed up, release can begin.

It’s a main-squeezer, and surely a rush,
Lacking all lust but still bringing a blush;
Some easy breathing should bring down face-flush,
So pull up your pants. Remember to flush.

~Michael Danger Caskey

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Workplace Camelot

Their hands began by brushing her behind—
Those brigand bands and lusty male minds,
Whose banes were wedding bands and maidenkind:
The fruits sans seeds, or worse yet, still with rind—

And thus they touched that firm, but lovely pear,
A pair of knuckles first, but soon she’d wear
A brace of fingers for her underwear
And sooner still, they’d steal the maiden fair.

“I will not stand for this, unhand the miss!”
The noble Errant Knight would often hiss
For justice, honor, and a courtly kiss,
But brave Sir Knight, your chivalry was missed,

For when Sir Knight would ready out to ride
With righteous indignation at his side,
Then “what was that you said!” those hands would cry,
And “nothing, sir” a gelding would reply.

~Michael Danger Caskey