February 12, 1974
She sits on my leg, her thighs tight against me as if I was a horse.
She talks to Pauly as she moves forward and then back, then forward again.
She doesnít let on that she feels me react, as the seam of her genes presses against my manhood.
I am almost ready to explode.
This is not fair, nor is it supposed to be.
She doesnít even talk to me, just moves forward and back, speaking only to Pauly who seems not to see what is going on.
I want to rip her jeans off and plunge deep into her. But Iím scared she might stop.
I am the lantern she rubs until the genie appears, and I would grant her any wish if only she would grant one wish for me.
I die inside each time I see her and with every touch she gives, yet I have never kissed her, except only in my mind.
And a times like this, between the movement forward and back, I want more than a kiss,
But she keeps on moving, back and forward, back and forward, until I release, and then, I hear her sigh.