public glances
all sharp and nasty
yet behind those looks
your eyes scan
the landscape
as you take in
the rise of
my ebony mounds
and stare at my nips
longing to caress
them with the warmth
of your fingertips
careful not to be noticed
as your eyes drift from
my nips to my hips
and to the gap
between my thighs
forcing the space
in your slacks
to lessen yet
keeping your
lack and lusting hidden
a slight shift in position
and your fingers caressing
stops your passion from exposing
your hunger for tasting
the nectar that flows
from my clandestine fruit