For Those Who Wish To Read My Blog Of Sentience Poetry http://intrigue1manview.blogspot.com/
Don't be shy, leave a comment please... 1Manview © 1999 – 2013

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Tender Touch Tuesday.... Prelude To Wet ... By Sayble ........


The thought of your touch lightly caressing my skin makes me tingle

Fantasies assuage my psyche all as sundry not just single

Your warm, delicious lips dancing a trail along my neck

Mmmmmm baby, elicits a responding chord so deep it makes me wet

Your questing hands move lower to my golden brown chocolate tip twins

Your head dips down for not to taste would be a sin

The nipples you twist and twirl on your magical tongue

Remembering that there are two tips not just one

Your hands travel lower to my quivering waist

Thoughts circling around our heads not definitely chaste

This dance we’ve danced many times before

Makes you, my darling, the greatest maestro of this score

For your gentle hands, your tongue, your lips

Orchestrate frantic movements from my hips

Begging you to join us together as one

The look in your eyes, the shake of your head telling me this song has just begun

My tempting body you’ve just begun to sample

Of honey, chocolate, sweet flowing nectar there is ample

The journey has taken you down, down below

Tears fall from my eyes, it’s my center I want you to kiss not my toes

The maestro wouldn’t be great if he just went in for the kill

So he takes his time, warms the instrument of my desire with his infinite skill

He knows what he’s doing he sucks one toe then makes his way to all ten

My body begins weeping in arousal again and again and again

Then he moves back up…..slowly headed north

Making frequent stops along the way up my calves, knees, and thighs with his mouth

‘Le petit mort’ claimed me so many times I lost count, I think it was three

He wouldn’t let me go, kept pushing the button had me climbing up a tree

Finally with a smile and a kiss he heads to the spot

That’s burning up, so decidedly hot

My parted thighs he watches as he gets ready…gets set

To spear the fountain that’s oh so wet

His prelude he has played like a master from old

Now his score he will start from beginning to end to me he told

Just when I think it is over

He will surprise me and go to the Coda

The music swells as it reaches steady crescendo

I can’t help but breathe a shrill, repeating OHHH

At the end of the music where the score says fini

His bow pulsed and throbbed pushing forth his seed

With his well oiled bow he has mastered his set

And this time he has made me soaking…..wet

This Poem Was Written By My Poetic Guest Sayble...

10 comments:

  1. That was great, thanks.

    Love,
    Ronnie
    xx

    ReplyDelete
  2. Regreso de nuevo, con más ganas que nunca de estar con vosotros...
    Un abrazo!!

    ReplyDelete
  3. A wonderful guest post. I enjoyed reading this.

    ~Sweets

    ReplyDelete
  4. I love getting lost in all the beautiful prose you share *sigh* xo - E.

    ReplyDelete
  5. 1Man view without a doubt your sites inspire. Pulling all in that dare to dwell beyond it's adult contents! Poetry at it's sexual best...yet so tastefully done!

    Blessings,
    Janielle

    ReplyDelete
  6. Evangeline, Thankyou for the read....

    ReplyDelete
  7. Ronnie, thanks for stopping in and leaving a comment, your comments are alwways wekcomed...

    ReplyDelete
  8. TemptingSweets99, thankyou, fpr your comment, it was appreciated...

    ReplyDelete