Sexy Poetry
"esmeralda" an erotic poem by Aimee Herman
Still by Richard C. Livingston
Four days past her birthday, Esmeralda gets a spanking. Leather skirted, zipper crotch and he lifts her over his lap. Skirt rises as red fabric encloses the seam of her bum and he places flat palm over her. Her master, out of town until Saturday, will compete with the wallops when he returns. He leaves before her bedtime and arrives far beyond her morning tea. Around her neck, a collar snaps into place waiting for his leash to pull her back in again. She says thank you after each slap, before each gasp, after spectators spot the coloring of her skin. She thinks of beautiful women wearing her fingers, slightly wrinkled, like an article of clothing. Twenty-five or thirty-two lashings because the counter lost count and Esmeralda can handle it. She never speaks of the man’s rise beneath his own leather which is just below her belly and she never speaks about the first time she saw this man with elephant trunk of man inside his mouth and feather duster sweeping up his insides and she never speaks about the first time she was spanked when she was six because it did not feel quite like this. She rises as skirt plummets down toward center of thighs and her loose skin falls back into place. She smiles big gap between teeth and red lips worn down from kissing in corners and sipping on cranberry and seltzer. A redhead calls her stunning and sexy and she no longer feels the sting. She grabs small hand of woman with dimples and they find each other’s waist and they kiss. Several generations split between them, yet hands go in similar places and their tongues never touch but lipstick exchanges placement from Esmeralda’s to another.
Originally published April 2011