A to Z .. E is for Erect clit ... Monday moaning

Trembling thighs

Are gently pried

Open wide

Fingertips 

Gently dip

Inside moist swollen lips

Head slide

Between firm thighs

Causes a anticipated sigh 

Moisten lips

Softly sip

On pink erect clit

Hips gently buck

As lips lightly suck

While surreal sensations run amuck

Monday moan

Becomes full blown

As lips suckle, on her erect pink throne

1Manview © 1999 – 2014

Make it rain .... Prose poem ....

Uuuu,

Tongue slowly lashing between my moisten folds,

Making them wet with the warm spit of your slick saliva,

Body sweat,

Pressure slowly building up,

While your tongue tenderly lash deep between, 

The center of my womanly blossom

Swirl,

Twirl,

Dip,

Flick

Lick,

Sip,

My mind now thinking of your pretty dick,

Drenching deep inside my pink wick,

Stretching,

Thrusting,

Pushing,

Shoving,

Trying to reach the means of my watery depths

Thighs contract tight around your head,

As tongue sweep deep into my wet pink

Stomach muscles spasm,

As body orgasm,

While your tongue lick,

Around and on the tip,

Of my pink, hard, erect clit

Pleas of cry, tell you to stop,

But stop, you must not,

Not until my body rise, shudder and sake, like it was tased by a city cop,

Then fall into the tranquility of an rapturous orgasmic flop

1Manview © 1999 – 2014

Monday Moaning ..... Flavor .....

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Monday Moaning ...... Clean sweep ....... Repetitive poem

It wasn't the slow, long wet lick of the tip of his tongue, 

That made my legs quiver, 

My thighs tighten around his head, 

My voice gasp

It wasn't the slow circle of his tongue around my clit,

That made my fingers grasp deep into the mattress, 

My lungs inhale deeply

It wasn't the width of his tongue, opening the slit of my vulva lips wide,

As it slowly trace down its split open trail,

Making me my voice sigh, out loud

It wasn't his tongue darting and circling on my pink moist opening,

That made my body vibrate with miniature tremors,

My voice gravel

It was when his tongue dove deep into the softness of my pink flesh,

And received its first taste of my honey sweet depths,

That made us moan....

1Manview © 1999 – 2014