Sunday, 14 August 2011

On the floor

One of my new poems. I would to hear what you think.

On the floor.

A touch like a Feather,
Stroking down the curve of my back.
Ripples of pleasure
Stirrings in the moist depths.

Down the inside of my leg he trails,
His hands I want more of
But not as much
As his hard pulsating member.

Rolling me gently over,
His lips caress my nipples
Down my stomach they glide
Oh my god, his tongue is going inside.

My body tightens and then relax
My juices flow with release.
I’m not satisfied, not yet
I really need more.

His hard manly hood goes in deep
He thrust and withdraws
In slow motion strokes
I lie there and beg for more.

With rhythmic motions we go
Sometimes fast sometimes slow
I go to grab him, but he holds me still
I am mercy to his will.

When all is said and done
I feel him pulsate ready to burst
I’m waiting I am hot
Together we climax, there on the floor.

© Titania Nesha-Tari

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