Paul Tanner

us swellers

she had a beer belly like a man.
it was fascinating. 
she had the hips and the tits,
but then there was this dome of a belly 
and it wasn’t hard and shiny like a pregnant stomach,
it was soft with folds at the sides like a man’s beer gut
and even more amazing was that she wasn’t ashamed,
she’d sit on the couch in shorts and an open shirt,
those long strong legs out and crossed,
one firm slab of thigh on top of the other, 
her breasts that got bigger towards the bottom 
perfectly bunched up within the balcony of her bra
… but with this big old wobbly gut between them
and maybe it was the media shaming bellies have got,
but this somehow seemed even more intimate 
than if she’d shown some nips or lips
and it drove me mad,
the hot slut
sitting there 
with that big round thing that processed all her food and turned it into shit
just hanging out for all to see like that
and when I went down on her
I always had my hands on her belly,
stroking it
and she let me,
the shameless whore let me stroke 
the skin surface of the very balloon that all her intestines were coiled up in, 
how intimate is that? 
and she would look down
as she reached for
another beer.

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