Sexy,
you keep me on
an addict’s edge,
awaiting your brushstrokes
against my thickness.
Yesterday you -
mounted my mind,
and made me
scream a scream of
freedom familiar only to
wide-open windows on
mild summer nights, and
closed-in lakeside cabins on
frozen snow-crusted waters.

Painted
me a foreplay – a frottage:
tongue encircling tongue,
cotton-covered hardness gliding
back and forth between
silk covered cheeks.
Clever,
how you studied my prose,
borrowed my words,
colored them and
made them yours, and
then rubbed them
gently against
my soul.

Enamored with
your perspicacity,
I allowed the
twine of your terms to
bridle my attention as
I begged for more.

Your Slickness
sketched me a coitus – a union:
your stiffness entered my softness,
your grinding met my thrusting
underneath silken sheets.
That was sharp,
how you examined my prose,
licked them and made them yours,
and then drove them
in between my thighs.

Charmed by your astuteness,
I insisted you take the reign as
I submitted. and
I begged for more.

Yielding,
I willingly took your direction;
you knew that for me,
this place could not be
easily shattered.
But at your hands,
I was broken.

Before you made your requests known,
I welcomed my cracks and
undid every one of my never-wills,
unpacked my I-am-nots, and
discarded my I-sure-don’ts.

Instinctively,
you answered every one of
my wants before I could
open my mouth to beg for more.
Before your request touched my ear,
your will was already done.

Today, I beg for more...please.