A. J. Heard
November 2000

Down 16th Street men follow,
mesmerizes by the sway of fleshy hips
a rounded pendulum at the end of an erect spine,
while morning light gilds wet hair,
damp tendrils kiss the sides and nape of neck
and thighs, encased in black,
muscles straining against smooth material,
carry me away.

A strong fog, aphrodisiacal aroma of morning coffee,
wanting to stop and sip -- but no time! No time!
And legs carry me away with only a tiny pause,
giving false hope to those who follow, behind,
unaware of other concerns, enraptured by fantasy.

*San Francisco Sex Information


A. J. Heard
November 2000

Wearing 41/2" heels and a satin corset
that embraces me closer than any lover's arms
I love myself with every strutting stride.
Warmed by the friction of silk clad thighs
juices flow eased by the undulation of bodacious hips.

I am more than a booty call
because of a thought, a need for a sexual mojo.
A luscious taste of hot chocolate
to spice up a vanilla life.

Jewel tinted hibiscus opens in aromatic invitation
and nostrils flare to catch elusive scent
while fingers beg to stroke,
mouth waters to taste,
and I enjoy the ache of waiting
for one who can see.

I am not one of those women sitting on a shelf
full of fantasy to be a 'sullen girl', a line from a song.
Being sullen has no appeal to me
unless accompanied by a collar and cuffs with a whip.
I make my own songs.'


 A. J. Heard lives in Santa Cruz, Ca. with her numerous Fur Persons; where she dreams of moving to Santa Fe, NM and is a frequent contributor to the ERA web site, and has been posted on Suspect Thoughts web site, published in Blue Food, La Gazette and Staplegun Press and has a story in the forth coming anthology "Guilty Secrets II" edited by M. Christian.