Latin Legs

She shimmies past on heels that won’t end,
latin legs luring me closer and closer.

The music drifts throughout the club,
the sultry beat matching my heart’s tempo…
She slinks onto the floor, hands on her hips,
pouty lips beckoning to me from afar.

Wild beats and wicked movement,
begging and pleading without a word,
as I sit there, gaze riveted on you,
I cannot break the link between us,
and I don’t even want to.

Latin legs luring me to the end of the line,
as I stand and move closer,

gravity keeping me grounded
when my body feels the need to float…
feels the desire to combust into
a raging inferno of lust.

You’re a siren, a temptress, a devil,
and I am powerless to resist,
I stalk you, moving in circles around you,
your hands beckoning to me,
my eyes glazing over, predatory.

Fingers graze flesh, touching here and there,
as I tease in return, getting as good as I give,
needing as much as you, begging with my fingertips.

The music changes, the beat gets darker,
more bass, more sultry rhythm,
my fingers seek your hair,
digging in, your body moving in time,
slithering against me,
the music heavy in the air,
and the tempo changes.

Faster beats and quicker movements,
a dance older than time itself,
caressing fingers, seeking hands,
locked lips, passion playing a delicious game.

Latin legs locked around me, love and lust.

Lara Wilson

Lara Wilson

Editor at NY Literary Magazine
Lara holds a B.A. in Comparative Literature. She's a native New Yorker, an after-school English tutor, and a bookworm.
Lara loves photography and horseback riding.
Lara Wilson

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