Stepping Out

She likes it best when he's fresh from the shower
in clean plaid flannel pants
with an elastic waist
that outlines his backside just enough to give him one
with no room for guessing
and his pant legs rolling down
to his ankles in straight lines leaving
much for interpretation.

His creamy upper body virtually
hairless, except for that trailing down from the navel
a man's body unmistakably
on which countless occassions she has restedher head
and her mind
her worries.
smoothing his palm across his chest
back and forth
as if shining a Braeburn for a summer snack.

A lazy yawning that his
hand keeps inside,
a gentle masculine hand with young creases of experience
and chronically short nails
that never take the time
to show thier white crescent tips
above the blonde of his knuckles
now the only dry patches.

A thin arm of recently toned muscle
his dimples shoulder the most palpable proof of his play
slowly cascades down now
to join his other to create a perfect symmetrical picture
opening and raising them slightly
to protect another body wet just
Stepping Out.


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