Loving Friend (Part II)

Staring in the mirror, emotions bouncing
like kernels in microwavable popcorn bags,
wildly jumping, pulsating, celebratory clitoris,
gazing at my sweating body, feeling tawdry,
loving it,
imagining how light-headed I’d “not” be if you were here,
instead, shivering legs keep pace with hurried heart beats,
designed to make each gasp memorable, awkward,
different in feeling relieved,
not deceived by ineffective size gone a rye,
taking term “quickie” to new lows,
toes tingling, room spinning, glancing at him,
nameless, stranger to these vaginal Jericho walls
come a tumbling down,
never mumbled words during interaction,
always allowing my coming to passing,
my cumming to orgasm,
my numbing to your phallic inaction,
thoughts of you now distracting in comparison,
polar opposites standing at varying ends of spectrums,
one flailing, one constant, strong,
one happy to depart, one arrives after the first is gone,
one short in concentration, one long in duration,
leaving one wondering with whom might penetration
be greater?

Later for debate,
better place new found mate back in his sacred drawer,
the “hummmm” of his movement calling,
begging me to explore,
need to hurry before you get back from work
expecting “faked” cries of joy vibrating
through out the house,
which reminds,
did I turn the switch “off” on my second spouse?