At the Nudist Club
I meet the naked lady on the stairs:
her heavy breasts and belly madly bounce.
I stand aside, but grinning, turn to watch
her wobbling thighs and buttocks as she walks
towards the bottom of the stairs; but then
she turns and runs towards me, breasts a blur
of bouncing, jumping, swinging, sagging flesh,
and just beneath her flabby belly, hair.
She passes, squeezing by me, skin on skin.
I wonder what she thought of me, and laugh,
imagining my dangly, wobbly self.
written 14th October, for John Lawless' Nude descending a staircase contest
pure fiction
Copyright © Jack Horne | Year Posted 2019
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