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Subject: {ASS} Poetry Lessons by Lord Malinov
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Poetry Lessons
by Lord Malinov

~~~

Class droned on forever, one of those days of literary analysis where 
words seem dead and the author's point seems to be that we shouldn't 
waste our lives reading when there are rosebuds to gather.  Each 
click of the second hand came only after a moment's pause, the 
slow mockery of a bored tick-tock man.  I kept awake and endured.  
For that, I deserved a reward.

My classroom purgatory lay on the edge of campus, and with unplanned 
good fortune, my apartment sat just beyond a seedy commercial 
district which boasted several establishments draped in blue.  I 
pulled emphatically at the solid wood door that granted access to the 
windowless bar, and stepped into the utterly dark transition of the 
curtained foyer.  My eyes adjusted to the dim light while my ears 
adjusted to the brash noise of a heavy-metal riff.  I pushed aside 
the curtain and let my senses be dazzled.

Yellow lights sparkled in sharp points of radiance down the length of 
the small room, echoed by mirrors behind two small stages, the 
chrome rods rising like pillars to mark each platform's edge, and 
half-empty glasses of expensive cheap beer.  My attention fixed at 
once on the girl, wholly naked, not four feet away, shaking her bum 
in an elderly gent's face.  I walked the narrow aisle, avoiding feet 
and a tray-laden waitress, still mesmerized by the poetry of soft 
tits shaken.

Another dancer, a blonde with inflated boobs and a stiff prance, 
worked the stage further down, but a glance down toward her and 
another back again made my choice simple and I looked to sit down 
near the lovely who had first caught my eye.

I found a chair some two yards from the stage, and sat down with a 
sigh, forgetting in one simple motion the cares of my day.  I 
clutched my notebook in my lap, leaned back in my chair and watched 
the girl dance.

Pale pink nipples fronted her chest, like lazy wide eyes reflecting 
each drunk patron's stare, the dozen glazed expressions fixed between 
beery gulps.  I imagined the girl in a yellow and white sundress, 
walking through the small park down the hill.  She might smile just 
that way when the breeze lifted her dress lightly, a mischievous gust 
fought with china hands.  I could tell her about the daisies, how 
they follow the sun.

"Hey, Steve," said Janine, the weekday's regular waitress.  She has a 
slight gap between her front teeth and a light scar on her neck which 
could only be seen when she cocked her head, letting her black hair 
fall to the right.

"Hi, Janine."

"How was class?" she asked.

"Dull, dull, dull," I lamented.  Janine's black halter hugged tight, 
a size too small at least, forcing her breasts to spill forward to 
escape.  She has a cute belly-button.  I told her so.  She rolled her 
eyes.

"Do you want lunch, or a beer?"

"Still can't afford to eat.  Gimme a Bud," I replied.

"One Bud," Janine echoed mechanically.  A tall business-looking man 
bumped into the small woman as he tried to pass by.  "Hey!" she said 
suddenly, showing a mean snarl.  I shook my head, disapproving of the 
treatment she so bravely endured.  Janine smiled a wry smile and 
turned away.  Her shorts cut off before her bottom had finished, 
showing small crescents of her behind.

I opened my notebook, looked for a second at a few scrawled words, 
and closed it again.  "Later," I told myself, and turned my thoughts 
back to the stage.

The girl wore a skirt and struggled with her top.  A primal chant 
marked the descent of an old Aerosmith tune.  I looked around the 
cluttered bar to see who might come next.  A smile erupted as I 
watched Elise striding forward.  My heart pounded as the dark dress
she wore tickled my senses.  I fumbled with my notebook, 
self-consciously excited.

Golden blonde hair fell over her shoulders like a mane, a glittering 
tawdry fountain of white and yellow and twinges of pale red, lit in 
stark contrast to her black cotton shift.  My mouth watered as 
Elise took the three steps leading onto the stage, her lean legs 
revealed with each short ascent, parading delicate feet bound in the 
black leather to tall heels.  Exchanging smiles with her predecessor, 
she led the pack of men below in a brief round of applause.  

Elise surveyed us during the rattling bar noise of the song's 
intermission, her blue eyes alive in sizing up her prospects.  She 
danced, I knew, in the ecstasy of her own delight, but she also 
danced for her living, and gave her best where it paid the most.  I 
waited for her gaze to reach mine, anxious to feel the warm familiar 
smile she would surely bestow on me.  I returned her silent greeting 
with a nod and a simmering sense of anticipation.

The music began, some popular dance song imported from England and 
Elise began to sway her luscious hips, swinging the hem of her dress 
in growing arcs.  Janine sat my bottle down in front of me.

"Five-seventy-five," she said.  I hurriedly pulled seven dollars from 
my pocket and handed them to Janine, my eyes reluctant to leave the 
stage, where Elise slowly lifted her dress to reveal the first 
glimmers of red satin panties.

"You like belly-buttons, then," said Janine with a smirk.

"Let me kiss yours," I said, still staring at Elise.

"Yeah, right," said Janine.  "I'll give you something to kiss."

Elise lifted the dress over her head, her full breasts stretching 
with the lift of her arms, falling back as she shook her long mane 
loose.  Dark rouged nipples jiggled in the stage mirror as she hung 
her cotton dress from a hook.  I took a sip of the cold beer, my 
vision transfixed on the shudders of her flesh.  Elise, free in her 
blossoming nudity, picked up the rhythm and began to truly dance.

Hers was no excitable schoolgirl's loose jazz of shakes, twirls and 
kicks, for Elise had been trained to entertain with her motion, the 
studied execution of rhythm, form and control.  I watched in 
amazement as she waved her ripe breasts before us in supple 
provocation.  Her shoulders and hips swam through the drum beats.  
Her eyes told tales, wild and sweet.

Elise bore a remarkable resemblance to a girl I once knew, a pretty 
young thing with an innocent playfulness and a biting wit, a girl who 
had teased me incessantly and then dashed away just as the craving to 
kiss her had finally sent me mad.  I spent a wealth of nights longing 
for that lost chance to caress my sweet Sally, to tickle her fancy, 
to tease her with kisses the way she'd teased me.

Elise turned her back to me, bending slightly at the waist to wiggle 
her round pantied ass at my affection.  I adored her.  She tickled 
her bare back with the tips of her golden mane, falling between the 
wings of her shoulder blades, striped faintly with a bikini tan.

"I'd love to see her naked," the young man confided as we sat at the 
pool, watching Elise dive into the deep water.  I smiled to 
myself, knowing that I'd never tell him how easily his wish could be 
granted.

The red satin of her panties shimmered in the gleams of yellow light, 
as her full bottom quaked in a bold taunt at my weakness.  I pushed 
my wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of my nose, eager to capture 
every blessed moment of the vision she offered.  I dropped my 
notebook off my lap, onto the grungy floor, but paid it no mind as I 
refused to relinquish my impassioned stare.  Her thumbs slipped under 
the crimped elastic waistband.  I held my breath.

Her lean legs held in a straight line, and she slowly pushed her 
panties down.  My lust fluttered sorely.  The moon of her bottom 
escaped from the confines, folding cloth marking the fading horizon.  
I ached with hunger, watching her beautiful globes come into sight, 
further and further in slow exquisite motion.  A dark shadow in the 
deep valley teased me with dirty thoughts of the girl's living scent. 
 Down the cloth rolled, into a straight rope and the shorn lips of 
her pussy came at once into view.  I sighed a gust of overheated 
breath.  A sparkle of dew gleamed between her pink swollen folds.

With the sight of her luscious cunt, an inferno of uncontrollable 
desire raged within me, and I felt myself falling at once 
desperately in love.  As Elise turned away, picking up the lost beats 
of the song with a rapid and studied sequence of steps, I gave myself 
to a cascade of visions, of today and tomorrow and yesterdays 
relived, of words screamed in lonely nights, never spoken, dreams 
never revealed and in a fit of revelry, I let myself imagine 
boldly inviting her home, kissing her sweet, and making her mine with 
a ring and a life.  And Elise danced, enchanting us all.

"Another beer?" Janine asked.

"Sorry," I said.  "That's all I can afford."

"See you tomorrow?"

"Well, I hope so."

~~~

Malinov

-- 
Power belongs to those who dare. . . Sapere Aude

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