How was I to know?
The curve of your waist,
And then your ass as wide as a snowy field,
I tramp along, my hands gripping the edges of you,
Rubbing my cunt over your boots,
Tall black boots and nothing else.
I press harder and slide,
My bruised pussy strains to hold the leather,
Oh, your ass,
And I smell it, the creases of inside and dank,
The smell of you,
A rough sweating sex of a smell,
I want to sink into you,
Clinging to your waist,
Reaching around for your right nipple,
As I fuck you.