The Edge

I am keeping myself on edge

for when I can play properly.

I put my cool fingers inside my lips  and

using my the tip of  my index finger barely touch with

feather-light strokes that

most sexually sensitive, surprisingly small but

all-powerful organ, hidden within soft,

protective layers of warm flesh.

When exposed it is so silky smooth

I could slide my finger across it and feel so high

 as though drugged with sensual ecstasy.

I want to cum, to lose my mind, but I won't,

I make myself wait till  later when I have time to

pleasure myself in luxury.

My sexual fantasies run through my mind and

nearly catch me out when I am in public.

I have to maintain a normality I do not feel,

a quickened heartbeat or shallow gasp

has to be explained away ....

all the while I am becoming more liquid

between my delicious thighs,

maybe it will trickle below my hemline,

I dare not and cannot sit down yet.

I am alone again now and my finger

 finds that hidden, pink and shiny, hot spot once more,

still denied the full, heaven-soaring  pleasure

that small nub can deliver

when treated with respect. 

Once more I bring myself to the edge of the

precipice and have to back away before

I fall once more into dark oblivion .....