PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Lying naked on her back, limbs butterfly spread, head

pillow fashioned to the side guarding potential embarrassment,

making my eyes less vulnerable for betraying inexperienced

facts - that I too have never done this before.

Fleeting hesitations glance the dangling sting, as I wrap

the twine around my finger and tug, expecting a primordial

deluge, yet no bleeding flood came. My astonishment also

found the ruby wad charming, fragrant, and rather cute.

A towel made available, a Charisma Terry Bath Sheet

was deftly placed beneath her, and at the start, still unspotted,

inviting my approaching thumb into her cherry chasm as if raising

a staff to heaven commanding it part the Red Sea.

It was here she began to moan with previously unheard

noises that seem to beg my whole hand, grabbing by fingers

with caressing sensations , and causing my skin to become

angelically tattooed with her scarlet luster hickeys.

Emerging from the vacuum of this sucking chamber, digits

clean of crimson traces, my drifting face parachutes between

her baby soft thighs, pushing through the strawberry patch to locate

a treasured, hooded pearl; so I licked its glistening invitation.

Her pleasure nub grew like a garnet bubble blown from peppermint

gum, sticking to my lips as my tongue circled the swelling jewel; thus

losing inhibitions I plunged straight down into the cranberry bog

to harvest vats of her spicy, aromatic juices.

The frenzied, wailing excitement stood me rigid, as I tasted those

vivid throes that triggered her euphoria. A womb of elation where I

heard my own subconscious desires, paring with a jealous craving to be

this woman, wear her soul rather than mine, and command births.

It was here I felt a sudden arch, and witnessed the fiery launch of her

pulsating orgasm, pelvis pushing forward as if it wanted to consume my

face, as she tightened her smooth, shaved legs around me, in forceful

gesture – as if wanting to pull my head from my neck.

Blissfully slacking her spine back to the bed, I safely advanced

from the Rosy Valley, and like a skilled mountain climber triumphantly

ascended to her twin peaks – until I was met with an avalanche

of cascading but affectionate laughter.

The shriek of her hilarious giggles unmasked me, a fitting encore as she

grinned at my plasma smeared cheeks;  smiling at that burgundy shine

giving rise to faithful, glowing intimacies being heightened by two caring

partners, that risked a new dimension of sharing, trust  and love.