I love it every time you walk past in denim. Ample apple bottom finds me on my knee. You turn around and rip off my cotton shirt. Smiling because you finally caught on to my plans for the hour. You let your satin knots and lingerie slip to the floor. I’m certain the spot you’re sat in is already soaked.
We fall on the bed and in silk bedsheets I finally sink into you. We’re one with the fabric as your ecstatic scream materializes.
She said, “I’d rather be direct.” Than message my hints of wants and needs. I said, “Slow down and take a breath.” Fogging up my glasses will interfere with my deeds.
She said, “Just lay down your spectacles.” I said, “I’d rather move down and behold that spectacle.” She smiled whilst warning me to stop with the wordplay. Her eyes lied for in them I saw something playful.
Both of us unable to speak again. I wove a poem into her body and essence. As she hypnotized me with her moans.
Her body said, “One more time.” I didn’t reply for I’d lost my tongue to her.
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