Poetry
by
Koda


Cartoon Girls
© Koda 1995



I dreamed I was a cartoon
woman, though at first I was myself
observing two impossibly beautiful
3-D drawn females in see-through lingerie.
They were sitting on something I never saw,
kissing, caressing each other,
the blond soft and sensitive, her skin
painted the faintest shade of banana yellow,
the red head seductive and passionate,
both built with those impossibly huge
cartoon breasts on bodies where
they were perfectly proportionate.

I identified with the blond, lusting the other
and suddenly found myself kissing her,
staring into her deep brown eyes
animated with the red glow of burning coals.
She lifted my huge breasts and a surge
rose up from my thighs as they wrapped around hers,
my body trembling as her wet lips engulfed my nipples.
My breath raced away. I felt my cartoon nipples extend,
becoming phallic shaped tongues as she thrust her breasts
against mine, her nipples now small vaginas
with lips sucking vibrations from my breasts into hers.
My chest lunged forward as my arms and legs
entwined around her in a desperate grasp.
My groin exploded in sensations entirely alien.
I could feel an expansion deep inside my abdomen
elongating downward and out and into her
as she groaned and threw back her great sea
of flaming hair flowing all around us.

With her sigh came a squeezing at the top
of that expansion from my groin, a pressure that slid
down around that part of me inside her.
It slid over me inside her then outward then inside me,
squeezing, undulating, then vibrating together with the pulsing
in our sucking, licking breasts.
Our legs and arms began to shrink into our bodies
which became one, egg-shaped mass filled with
electrical fires swirling with buzzing jolts
of pleasure so intense they left me paralyzed,
limp with exhaustion and utter relaxation.

The red head smiled at me,
then taking my hands she made me run them up my thighs
and across those impossibly huge breasts
and I nearly fainted to feel myself as I never had before.
My head rolled back and my blond curls tingled
against my cartoon skin
as I awoke laying in bed embracing myself.

What source such dreams?
Such limits we endure being human
that I long to explore the dimensions of some cosmic artist's pen.


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