Whose independence we were celebrating
was up for debate. The ballroom was resplendent
in the colors of our amnesic state, five pointed stars gilded with gold,
sparkled from the arched indigo ceiling, in constellations,
as if to mock the truths that the founders foretold.
On the terrace arrogant men roared lies
about their sexual prowess to tarts dressed in frocks
hemmed at the buttocks and necklines down to their navels.
And the pill-popping politicians were hard for their lies, as their manicured hands
groped the girls with immunity; thrusting their chubby fingers into wet cunts
and skintight asses, all bought and paid for with their crypto cash-ins.
I was about to depart from the debauchery when into the ballroom strolled,
a vision from a fever-fed lesbian fantasy. On five-inch heels
and wearing a see-through chemise, she moved with the grace of an upright
cheetah, ambling towards me: a blonde ingénue in black leather pants.
My tongue was buttoned, my cunt was wet, her coral-blue gaze brightened
as our eyes met. Her smile was enchanting and I smiled in return
then she held her hands in mine, and my pussy began to churn.
She said, “I am a gift from the president, for you to have and to fuck,
a bedroom has been arranged, I am yours for just one night.”
Then she held my hands in hers, and led me out of the ball
and up a flight of stairs, and through a keyless door.
We entered a bedroom all aglow with tawny candlelight.
It was then that she kissed me and as she lifted my hands to her breasts,
through her thin chemise, my fingers tweaked her taut nips.
She whimpered and traced her wet tongue along my jawline
and down the curve of my neck.
It seemed we were naked in an instant of bliss, and the blonde
pulled me down to the bed and gave me her tongue in a kiss.
She smiled, yet her grin was raw and savage,
I knew she would pursue my body with lust and passion.
Her touch blazed a path of heat on my skin, trailing slender fingers
down to my bare pussy. Her hands, her mouth and her tongue
sent currents of desire pulsing from my breasts to my cunt.
She parted my bare lips while holding my gaze,
fucked me like an insatiable slut. I was nearly mindless with need,
I weaved her soft blonde hair in my fingers. She licked her way
down to my navel, kissed my thighs and looking up skimmed
her frantic tongue relentlessly over my pulsating clit.
My body throbbed with each thrust of her fingers
as her practiced tongue kept up the tempo
with every wet lash to throbbing pearl.
The flames within my cunt built higher and higher
fed by this sprite—barely more than a girl.
Relentless in her loving assault, I could take no more
and arched my quivering back.
My body shuddered and shattered
into a fiery flare of ecstasy. My cum spattering
forth, a hot river flowing from me.
Then I drew her up and kissed her, tasting my cum on her lips.
Side by side we held each other while my searing pleasure ebbed.
I sighed, loving the sound of her heartbeat slowing against my ear.
How can I relay more of that night of unrelenting passion,
her gift lives in me still, she gave me her heart and I surrendered
my obstinate will. I felt reborn, a woman who’d risen
from the ashes of her former self, I can still sense the heat
of her kisses on my breasts and the taste of her skin and her cunt.
It is often said that a love that is real endures, though it may be briefly touched.
I will hold in my heart the night of my true independence,
a marvelous gift from a blonde ingénue in black leather pants.
