She is 32 I am 19 A difference of 13 To ignore or pick up I dream of her almost everyday Or maybe leaving a day in between Just to relax a bit and dream of her all over again.
She is curvy, she is enthusiastic But she is alone Maybe I don't know her Maybe the frontier that I didn't cross Would reveal all her secrets.
One day I decided to knocked at The door of secrets She is a psychologist Hence, I became her patient I wish I was the joker I would have dived into acids of sorrow With her and her soul.
Cooking her 3rd meal A red apple, bread and butter with milk I don't remember it was summer or winter But she was sweating A drop of her sweat Travelled to her breasts And cold and pale I sat at the chair To get greeted with a cup of tea and some care.
Sat beside me to talk And listen Of nights and days that sucked the air Out of my lungs And the legs felt light with joy Heavy was the heart that didn't skip a beat.
Wearing a cloth of modesty A white frock covered her body And her breasts I am laying stress on all the organs, All of which were embellished with a size tag Say 34 for breasts, 38 for waist and some of them which the eyes didn't see.
All was good uptill when the stored data Inside the encephalon began to haunt me At nights; In dreams; I saw my parents crossing frontiers like me To plead to request The master of psychology To marry me and my soul.
She never says no She smiles and accepts Now, I was going to get laid With the most desired woman Of dreams and reality.
Why do people get married? The sole answer is to have sex, And to add heir to their imagination. But here the male domination saw no future She bought the condoms Covered the penis Sat above it And ordered to proceed further.
I was voiceless, powerless All the formalities were being performed At her place From deciding venue of ceremony To venue of honeymoon.
I was kept aloof about matters That involved my decision Ultimately I got hitched with the lady of my dreams in my dream But still the body felt sad Out of stamina At odd hours leaving me in pain.
She kept riding me until It was enough to extract And then orders me to bring a cup of black coffee She drinks black before lifting weights Before lifting me up And dragging me down in the balcony Naked with fear.
Everything requires an end My dreams ended after bending my head In front of her modest face and body While keeping a hand on my bag's folded foam which is soft and meshable, To assure her that I was fine And that I would never ever cross the frontiers of limits again.