The Lecture Hall

Silently
she caressed him,
opened his fly,
slid her hand in.
Squeezed him hard,
felt him respond,
oh so hard,
oh so long.
Gripped then freed,
stroked with her hand.
Not the evening
he had planned.
He stutters once,
pausing his speech,
then cautiously,
returns to teach.

The desk hides her act,
she strokes him quick.
He lectures on
and starts to pick
from hands upraised
to question what
his words had meant.
He feels so hot.
Her grip on him
robs his mind.
His thoughts escape,
he’s working blind.
Another asks
a different theme.
Above is calm,
below, obscene!

He keeps his cool
as she pumps,
he twitches, spasms,
a muscle jumps.
Wet and sticky,
she lets him go.
Licks her fingers,
They don’t know!
The lesson ends
and she is gone.
Leaves him exposed,
the Oxford don.
He sits and waits,
one remains.
A girl in front
stares at stains
that pool and puddle
beneath his feet.
She knows the cause
and feels a heat
envelop her,
her loins afire.
She spreads her knees,
shows her desire.

Thinking herself
to be the cause,
in her mind,
her passion roars.
Sliding satin
to the side,
licked wet fingers
slip inside.
He stares transfixed,
his eyes devour
this virgin minx
he could deflower.
No words are said,
they sit apart
he makes a fist
while fingers dart.
She clenches, tenses
as he stands
revealed in full
firm flesh in hand.

Stepping close
he mustn’t touch,
she smiles and that
just proves to much.
Her fingers halt
their frantic pace
in shame and joy
he sprays her face.

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7 thoughts on “The Lecture Hall

  1. Dear Chris I wasn’t expecting the ending at all! It feels good after a long period of not writing to get back into it, I was the same and I am glad to find another poetic soul to follow… keep up the good work! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’ve kept writing 😀 Spent the last six months doing little else… but poetry, that has not been with me since 1991 (and most of that related to a cynical view of our world). Now, this is new again, fresh. I must keep ploughing on with my stories but this release valve here? I hope it shall stay open :-*

      Like

  2. Reading it back now, the best part of a week later… I’m uncomfortable with that last rhyming couplet. I like the imagery and it IS the right end but… the wording… it just seems clumsy. ‘spray’ and ‘face’ just scream at me that they should be merrily dancing in the lines of a limerick.

    Like

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