Poem: Nibble

I nibble at your thigh
like a guitarist has a go at his strings
the strings that sound
make sounds that are music
from between your thighs
out a noise
breaking rhythm
dashing to the crescendo
steadily, certainly not slowly
moan starts turning to beats
our hearts playing the fiddle
to your music
my fingers dancing
to the flaps of your doors
each whisk, telling a story
with its own notes
producing our mating call
grabbing the sheets
pacing up and down
like a runner before his big race
until I stop and wait
watch and let you heave
I go in
to hear your sing
from between your thighs.

(Artwork by Shreya Dalmia)

This story was about:

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

We are always on the lookout for passionate writers. If you want to share your story or want to contribute to Gaysi on any other way, do get in touch.
Guest Author

We hate spam as much as you. Enter your email address here.