The ripe mango

I lifted her on my shoulders

To pluck the raw mangoes

We had sneaked into our neighbor's garden

Daintily perched

She plucked 

And collected them in the layers of her skirt

The slight glimspe of her bushes

And the sweet smell of her adolescence

Permeated my senses

So distracting was it

I tried to concentrate

But a bulge was forming below

It was not until a drop of sweat 

That trickled down her thighs

That was my last straw

Gingerly kissing her feet

I caressed my fingers on her legs

She stood motionless

Emboldened, I finally found her

In her enchanted forests

Her petals, surreptitious

I continued probing

She moaned 

And faltered

We both fell on the ground 

Amongst the littered mangoes

Unbuttoning her blouse

I knead her lush breasts

Her buds bloomed

I squeezed and suckled them

Till I found her taste

The ground beneath her had become drenched

I lifted her skirt

To relish her, further.

©LR