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By Ann Skrilec Submitted by annski808 Date: 2025 Mar 13 Comment on this Work [[2025.03.13.00.04.30650]] |
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You are teasing me with your smell Your neck, your hair... You look at me with a passionate flare That sweet innocence that matches up with a devil's glare Wine must be getting into me I look at you with nothing but an apron on the arch of your bum the tip of the mountain that touches the fabric of mystery shrouding the view of the galley The valley is carefully shaven The shape of heaven is carefully woven I pulled you closer to mine parted your thighs pulled the string from behind That one covering that's keeping the mysteries bind motherland's sweat gland that drips from that fine small crack I kissed it lightly teased it with my tongue as I slide underneath Command me I'm under your spell held captive with two fine pillars your muffins pressed against my clavicle as you lower down the curtains pressing it closer and deeper The season that was once winter now drips the snow into the water the slime that touches my finger the aroma of love that makes my body respond it arches on its own, rising and fumigating I want to scratch your surface--your flesh as I glide my tongue with your full-spread petunia softly, gently, caressingly igniting the pleasure that releases that violent blow back and forth, up and down... weaving the thread of moan biting my lip tasting my sweat grabbed my hair riding faster released the ache in my mouth and wanting more sensation's throbbing pulp's swollen milk's flowing apron's all soakin' back to steak-eatin' |