Incestuous showers

It was not the daughter,
But her mother who arrested my thoughts
Everytime I made love to my wife, I saw her.
Blasphemous it was, but I couldn't get over.

And then when she came to stay with us,
I became paranoid.
I maintained distance,
the conversation limited to few lines.

Was she aware, could she sense, I didn't know.
But distracting was her presence

She wasn't extraordinary,
Yet striking was her simplicity.
Was it her ebony eyes, was it her grace
Or was it her dense waves.
I don't know, but she was all that I craved.

Days were blur, nights sheer torture
And then one day
When I returned from work,
I saw her on the terrace,
soaking the showers.

She was a sight
Plastered in sin
Every curve whispered 'come closer'

Stealthily I walked and kept gazing from a distance.
Till our eyes met.
As if struck by a lightening, I went pale.
Smiling, she sauntered towards me,
While I stood rooted.

Cupping my trembling hands she guided me towards the lashing rain.
There we were, drenched

" You thought, I couldn't sense what's in your mind", she teased.
It was so evident.
Saying that, she coated me with mud
I grabbed a handful and smeared her face,
Sliding down her neck, as I reached her breasts
She pushed me on the floor with her naked toe
Before I could register,
She lifted her petticoat and offered her earth

There I was on the floor,
She covering me
I struggled to breathe
But she offered herself aggressively.
I kept exploring till I found her.
She wasn't complaining, neither was I

I stripped her veneer of simplicity
She was a raging fire
extinguishing the lashing drops.

When I offered her my power.
She took him with passionate fervour
I was on fire as she waved her tongue
I tried to break free as I was climaxing
But she grabbed my butt
and pushed me deeper in her crevice
I slackened in her rage
While she gulped every traces

The mud got washed
So did we, in incestuous showers.