1. The Dixie Dykes


    Date: 5/7/2016, Categories: Erotic Poems, Author: Magnetron, Rating: 1, Source: LushStories

    Convertible's top stuck down Wind blowing hair about my face Shoulders baking in the sun Missed my damn flight again Oh, what fun All the while A voice inside says, Don't be such a wussy Road trip I wasn't looking forward to Pavement unspooling ahead Throughout the evening Into the night Cactus partying to my left Mesas in the spacious right And every so often The unexpected Dip in this route That seemingly never ends FM 106 blaring from the radio When I found my rental Benz Passed by a pair of denim rear ends So curvaceous Hot damn Look at them go! Biker chicks in high heel boots Leather chaps Cheap sunglasses Escaping a swirling Whirling dervish of dust devils In hot pursuit of their sexy asses Straddling motorbikes Ahead of little ole me Naive girl from the big city Who wasn't in the know Around these parts were told Tales about this duo Known as the Dixie Dykes Now On any other given day I'd never stray This far from the highway Throat parched with an insatiable thirst I stopped at the very first tavern Aptly named The Hideaway Out in the middle of Nowheresville With a few hours to kill Said to myself, Oh, what the hell Between shots and beers Certainly had my fill Rested with my feet up for a spell Later They strolled in Jane and Marylin Two stunning gals If there ever was While the couple ordered whiskey and gin Every man stared As every man does And upon entering the billiard room Arms around one another The tavern came alive with a buzz One patron saying to the ...
    other Something about snatching A lick of carpet fuzz It wasn't long before A burly man poked his nose Through the beaded curtain door Catching a glimpse of tryst going on within When Jane's fist met his beer soaked chin Sending him backwards to the hardwood floor Peculiar was the look of calm on his face Replacing his shit eating grin And everywhere around me The local male population Were tipping chairs over Pissed Marylin stepping over the body Cracking knuckles in her palm Ready for the beatdown to begin Quiet Disrupted The quaint tavern flat out erupted Bottles Bodies flying everywhere Jane half dressed in her underwear Not fussing to keep her brassiere adjusted Whacked a few heads with a pool stick And if that didn't quite do the trick Marylin's fabulous roundhouse kick Was like a spinning coin Heads to the face Tails to the groin Tables literally began to turn In this atmosphere Now an Eastwood spaghetti western As a yetti sized trucker One scarred up motherfucker Tried to give Jane's cheek a cigar burn What caused me to grab my own chair And wield it through the air Perhaps it was the beers Quite possibly the shots Not really sure how many I know there were lots Enough to swing without a care I thought I killed him dead When it struck that trucker's head Sending him tumbling against the bar Instincts yelling at me, Run for the car! I helped Jane to her feet instead Heaving chest to chest I felt oddly possessed When she embraced me I didn't resist Her straying fingers ...
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