She pretends

he's not there,


but he is,

over her,


making love

the third time


for that night,

she just there


legs apart,

empty heart,


he keen to,

making sounds


like a pig

in a trough,


his backside

rising up


and then down,

captured in


the moonlight,

she seeing


over his

broad shoulders.


Not his fault,

her husband,


dumb Brian,

she wishes


it was her

lover there,


dear Una,

from Dublin,



softly her



planting those


hot kisses

on places


Brian misses,

as she moves


over her,

sucking her


not licking

as Brian


clumsy does.

O to be


with Una

in her bed


warm and close,

not with him,


dumb Brian

having sex,


getting there

once again


that sticky

semen dose.


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