Spooned And Sporked
A poem of love, lust, and everything in between the tines.
I'm your big spoon, your legs bend where mine begin, tucked in a velvet hush, curved in the drawer of midnight. Hips meet hips, limbs like language, your ass curves into me, perfectly placed by muscle memory. My hand slides under your shirt, fingertips graze your nipple, circle, twist, tug—release, you arch and softly gasp. "Spork me," you whisper wickedly, your voice thick and breathy, already soaked with promise, and my...