Poetica 44

You let these fingers take a walk on your back.
A slow sensual massage as I navigate your all your hotspots.
I make a stop at your thighs and take you on a wet journey.
My hands roam, hiking and tripping all over your curves.
Your hands fly to my belt and I land on my back naked.
You climb aboard and set sail for this orgasmic voyage.
I’m the passenger inside you but you’re the one who rides.
You make back and forth trips but we both always arrive.

Poetica 43

I miss licking maps on your stomach, charting your territories.
Moving up I discover your hills, on their peaks I tell these stories.

We create pools with our bodies, we are soaking the bedsheets.
But it’s the lake within you, whose rivers offer me the best treats.

You whisper that you love me between your caramel thighs.
I scream my agreement as your raise me to favourable skies.

You ride me through waves but you never fall off this board.
Unless the surf’s up and your body screams to be explored.

Poetica 42

Your fingers burn a trail down my back.
Almost breaking the skin then back on track.

Your lips set a part of my mind ablaze as they go down my neck.
Capping off your path with a warm but quick peck.

I raise a hand to your waist and I see your eyes light up.
You know too well that I know your body like a map.

My fingers light a bonfire when they pass your thigh gap.
Prompting you to throw me down and sit on my lap.

My lips find voluptuous hanging fruit to ignite a fresh reaction.
Probably impatient but I’m aiming for your satisfaction.

We ride that fire then bang in goes the cannon.
We scorch the earth as we explode in heated passion.

Poetica 41

I was lonely at the pitstop till you rolled in.
Ignoring the checkered flag, you crashed into my toolbox.
As your radiator fumes filled my space, I wanted to fix you not your car.
The bodywork still pristine, it was clearly the engine that needed my check.
After spending much needed time under the hood.
My strong hands already had you in a purring mood.
As the urge to ride took over, you climbed up to the cockpit.
Asked for my hand onboard to help reach your blindspots.
You turned the key and we both felt the ignition inspiration.
I slammed your throttle and we were both off to the races.

Poetica 40

It has been a quick year and SHE can’t wait till August.
You are stronger but can’t handle the insanity in her.
You promised not to be late but arrive with the sunset.
No time to waste, you soon make this African son rise.
Your hands slowly fill up my desire to cuff you.
They move fast as you’re worried about the curfew.
Gently unmasking what you’re after then your legs lock down.
SHE finds her cure in our clandestine entanglement.

Poetica 39

My ears notice the click of your heels before I see you.
My hands unable to hide their excitement throw open the windows.

Having entered the house, you waste no time locating the hardware.
As you lead to the inner rooms, it’s in my office where your lips excel.

You point to the table and request to access my power.
My fingers type on your body slowly, I don’t bite your apples.

The delayed gratification almost crashing your senses.
You demand between moans that I provide my input.

I tap all the right keys, operating inside your system.
As we get closer to overheating, we are one in our virtual reality.

Poetica 38

I was lost in the woods but there you were beckoning me to your forest.
Your ethereal beauty, crowning your plains and mounds.

You noticed my eyes were fixed on the fruits you owned.
Holding my hand, you led me to your royal canopy.

As you told of your dry spell, you found my growing wood.
I was easily convinced to move it to your bedding.

You looked up as the rains came down on my trunk.
As your flowers bloomed, you’d convinced me to plant a new tree.

Poetica 37

I drive carefully into the compound to avoid any unplanned blowouts.
You guide me from the outside and I’m in the right space.
I try to tip you, gratitude for the now raised tipper.
You say you want all of it, the promises and the debts.
I drill down deeper, you want the rubber to hit your roads not just bypass.
I can’t remember the right word but it rhymes with fracking.
Just one more inch and rhythmically approaches the predicted gusher.
As I hit your core, I finally get why you call it..
Baby-oil.

Poetica 36

My lips trot down your body like a knight riding off to battle.
I tug a war with your undergarments, inside my armour I grow.
Your hands flip me soon as they can find a handle.
Then you tie your hair up, as I bask in your surreal glow.
Our tongues meet, the dragon awakes the flames as you sit on my saddle.
My sword is un-sheathed, you make sure your initial movements are slow.
Soon the stallion is at full gallop, courtesy of your gyrating straddle.
We both win and lose the fight by the cock’s first crow.