Love. The Sexual Kind.

Love. The Sexual Kind.

Morning glory,

Yes this is a real story.

I smell your scent,

Warm, lazy and copulent.

From a night of wild,

Crazy passion.

A dance, a play,

We got our end,

Away in the fury of,

Fuzzy feeling and,

Release of gold.

Do you still,

Ring,

Sing,

Feel the potion,

Cradle you,

As I release,

Within,

My lasting token of desire?

Sweaty and slick,

My pulse is quick,

You suck my,

Ardour into life,

And know,

Below,

The fires glow,

A weeping show,

Your golden flow.

Beneath you,

I ride true,

Deep within,

You and then,

When I buck,

You feel my craving,

For you reach the peak,

Nipples I tweak,

Slap hand on cheek,

Skin palpitating and sleek,

Your body flops,

Becoming weak,

So Chic......

 

 

 

 

An Original poem by Guilhem Du Mas.