Every
morning like clockwork for the last month, she has run past my house.
And
God damn do I want a piece of her.
Her
long brown hair sways so gently against her shoulders from the ponytail high on
top of her head.
Her
black shorts creep up her smooth thighs.
Her
sorta loose, sorta tight gray t-shirt comes down way too low in the front
The
headphones stuck in her ears attached to her iPhone or iPod or whatever.
And
I know…I see that wedding ring on her finger. I see it.
And
I can see that sweet little baby pooch she has going on. I can tell that those
tits that are trying to break free from her sports bra are way too big for her
little frame. I know she is someone's mommy.
But
that doesn’t stop me from wanting her…from watching her.
