Seduction Exposed

Poem by Bob Bussey

She slowly approaches.
All her curves in motion.
Sending signs of seduction your way.
She needs no coaching.
No internal emotion commotion.
Any time of the day.
 
She brushes your cheek.
Cool, gentle strokes.
Her moisture surrounds you.
Working her way down your neck.
Every stroke a beguiling coax.
Every touch arousing your central hue.
 
The touches become firmer.
Sliding down your shirt.
Her moisture warmer, stronger.
Sending signs of amore. 
A teenage flirt.
Lasting much longer.
 
The pace quickens.
Her heart exposed.
Gusts pelting you to the ground.
She throws you — stricken.
You try to stay posed.
She circles all around.
 
Then off comes her gloves.
Her shirt, her pants.
Standing naked, composed.
You realize she has no loves.
Her eroticism was merely a trance.
Another hurricane descending, exposed. 

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