Flushing

I'm lying back,

back..on my backside,

twiddling,

fumbling,

playing with my clitoris.

I'm alone,

lonely,

stroking my past and my future,

alone on a Friday night,

remembering better times.

The hood seems lonely,

unprotected,

unwanted

and bare.

I stroke him gently,

the prince under the shadow

of my glare.

I feel guilty,

he rises cautiously,

pokes around,

then stands proudly out,

defiant,

until I stroke him gently,

causing a reddening

doubt and spurt.

I gasp

as I feel his powerful surge,

he takes me over,

smothering my fears.

He grasps my doubts

and holds me, clasping,

gasping, as I surge into

his being, his knowledge, his wholeness,

him.