Visual memories of us crowds my mind,
Frame after frame of unadulterated sexual lust acts flashed before my eyes...
Leg muscles become taut,
As I touch myself,
In memory of you....
As I sit in the calm of the dark, it talks to me,
It whispers your name;
In my ear,
it breathes of your scent;
Into my nostrils,
It touches me softly like the tips of your fingertips;
On the exposure of my flesh,
It sees all of me as your eyes do;
Even when their lids are closed,
All while seducing, the being of me....
Hot steaming bowl of soup, was placed carefully in front of him,
His eyes fixated on the steam slowly rising out the bowl,
As he inhaled, an intoxicating aroma filled his nostrils,
Causing a cold sweat to appeared over his brow...
As the first sip of soup cleared his lips, the lingering taste of her substance overpowered the repugnant taste of the hot soup as it seeped slowly down his throat,
The lingering taste of her sex, was still saturated in his palate, its taste fueled his hunger for more...
Another sip, and once again, her taste filled his mouth,
Impatient filled his loins,
While his desire filled the feel of empty space in his belly,
Carnal lust now contemplated his will,
As confusion bottled up his thoughts...
As her toxic scent overpowered the air in the room,
The full bloom between his legs begin to ache...
Like a bull in rage, he rushed toward the red smock in front of him, before she could respond; he had ripped her chair from under the softness of her small, firm round derrière,
Then in one quick motion, one hand wrapped into her long flowing hair and pushed her body over the table edge, while the other jerked her panties down to her knees...
In an instant, his zipper flew open and his aching rock-hard affliction was roughly inserted deep inside the perspiring opening betwixt her legs...
Deep hard thrust impaled his manly hard flesh deep into the center of the cramp space inside her womb,
Each gyration of his hips sent the dainty kitchen table sliding across the kitchen floor until it wedge against the kitchen wall,
She screamed in pleasure pain as her body now took the full impact of his agitated thrust...
The flesh on her buttocks turned the color of glowing red, as his thighs slapped hard against them again and again...
With reckless abandonment his hips pumped feverishly back and forth, the thick base of his shaft pushed the velvet softness of her walls open wider, as his the tip of his length bumped into her cervix...
Heaved forward was her body, as his hips gyrated with force of violent anger, her head snapped back as he pulled on her hair like a horses mane...
Bam!-Bam!-Bam! Rung into the air, as the table bounced off the wall in rhythm of his trust.
Her lungs loudly gasp as her womb spasm and her body stiffens,
She quietly screamed as her womb creamed its clear liquid, while sensations of ecstasy rocket through her womb,
She became light headed as she felt his steel hard flesh stretching her womb wider,
Just as her legs started to quiver, she felt her womb being flushed with the heat of his white liquid,
She heard his lion like groan ripple in the air, as his girth palpitated continuously in her tight heat...
As her hips rolled in a quick tight circle,
his body became rigid...
As her womb clamped tighter on his harden flesh,
His groans turned from a lion roar into blissful agony...
Suddenly his body went from stiff to limp on top of hers,
His chest heaved in and out as his lungs grasp for air...
As her eyes slowly roll upward, they saw stream still rising from the soup that spilled on the table, a quiet laugh left her throat as she thought about how grateful she was, that her mother had taught her the best sex was always giving to the lousiest of cooks...
Firm soft breast with harden pink nipple,
Surrounded by a fluid grip,
Temps the tip of a pink tongue;
Moist heat surrounds it's sides,
As sweeping kisses,
Start gasping moans,
A Nonet Poem:
A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second line eight syllables, the third line seven syllables, etc... until line nine that finishes with one syllable. It can be on any subject and rhyming is optional.
Fingertips ease softly over the smooth curvature of her body,
They trace the long slender slope of her neck,
They follow the deep heave of her breast, and climb the height of the pinkness of her nipple,
They gingerly walk over the softness of the flat surface of her stomach,
Then lay a trail of tantalizing sensations on the thickness of her creamy thigh flesh...
Her soft moans serenade his ears,
Her moisten mound captivates the stare of his eyes,
Her feminine musk, entwined itself inside his nostrils, enflaming his loins...
The fingertips that once was so sure, now trembles,
While his mind ponders, do fantasies really come true?