You Mustn't Leave the Kids Unattended to

  Softer it runs closer to the pubesce A tuft escaped the trappings of your underwear then another as the first was felt. Your legs all but forgotten your knee feigned sleep, leaving the hips ajar & saying discreetly that "Oh yes it is permissible". I fancied the smooth rut not the deep furrow that has lended access to the unseen but that it being of the world of material it held for a moment empty-whole potential but made from it something familiar, something to be held. Fondling those loose curly cues others came out to play, but no I didn't venture in I found common ground I feel the new skin much like a healthy child a little pudgy (Yes I know you were born with dimples on your lower back) Your knee has made the common ground less dangerous & more inviting with your womb a plateau only slightly raised Your skin stretched & smoothed flat the bones of your torso are hinted of (& followed as outlines to a puzzle) just as your panties reveal the make of your soft underpinnings nestled there & emitting warmth for us kids -the radiator is enough to heat the whole house.
  And just as it was offered it was taken away You pretended wakefulness Your knee jolted pushing my hand -possibly- into what you had at first intended it to bequeath but that now it was a sort of vindictive retort of "That's what you could of had!" And yes I had chose otherwise but now with a little curiosity in retrospect which turned into regret of lost opportunities; I imagine with my hand in your panties you would have possibly stopped pretending sleep & rid my penis of its irksome underwear (having fully explored all their recesses) And once in your grip you would apply some pressure bowing it back toward me & letting up so as to redouble & pivoting it slowly around it's axis, skimming the surface but always maintaining control as though you were the pilot (on some game) of a plane that bore precious cargo of which you are gently bringing to the ground & maneuvering with refrain but poised to land as though on the softest pillow you wish to only leave one impression & this was to be your mark, a veritable signature of which you are proud. [With eyes closed your picture is taken Your skin concealed & thereby preserved]