Poetica 48

His eyes observe the world of wonders in front of him.
As his heart races, the hormones are no longer dormant.
His eyes close involuntarily, following her hand lines.
She feels her fissures open up, the more she closes in on him.
His breath comes in fast and raw gasps, reminiscent of his geysers.
Very much in need of his warmth, she rides astride the mountain.
As his peak hits her hot spot and her own magma flows.
His volcano erupts in an explosive high as her ass falls.

Poetica 47

The war I always have to fight with your clothes never seems fair.
Button after button like coins in a metre for my fare.
But tonight, the few silk bodies were dressed in your skin.
As my tongue ate them up before heading for the win.
I was thirsting for you but you said you were just a snack.
But I quenched it by feeding, as you lay on your back.
You clawed as my appetite rose and so did my zeal.
As I took my last gulp, you exploded into a meal.

Poetica 46

The walls grumble when you slam the door shut with a kick.
A fussy eater but apparently I’m your pick.
Your hands are frisky when you’ve been waiting all week.
They only move slowly when you find what you seek.
You have me fully on display when I only meant to peek.
Your fingers dancing their way up to my peak.
My eyes slightly close, forgetting you’re a sneak.
They soon open wide to find your body driving stick.

Poetica 45

My hair rises every time you whisper by my right ear.
My eyes light up to you delivering the erotic news.
Your hands make their way to the mic fearlessly.
Soon your lips follow them to this private speaking.
As my mind follows each of your sensual licks.
Your experienced tongue is busy sealing all my leaks.
You bring your skilled interview to an abrupt stop.
Dropping the headline and climbing atop.

I know we are headed for the press.

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.