Orange Dress

There she sits,

limp in her waxen dress

that is hugging her curves

but almost ripping at the seams.

I rub her gently to find

that perfect spot

I feel her,

caressing her bumps

and bruises.

I squeeze her,

to make sure she’s ripe

and ready.

There’s a sliver of flesh

that’s peeping through her raunchy slit.

Then I tuck my thumb under

to make my way in.

Slipping her clothes off

all in one piece,

that bright orange skin.

Graphic courtesy of Mali Carden.