By: Nathan
Pressed tenderly,
your carnal flower opens,
its butterfly released,
hovers like a hummingbird
drinking from the bill.
Oh, I too would steal you away
and cage you happily,
to get under your black-fringed skirt;
to see that pretty dress,
fly off once more,
and see you bare;
burned now forever in my banks,
a first sight,
of dark curls!
As I think of it,
my desire stirs,
but I have already masturbated twice,
thinking of us:
jammed,
hips pinned,
sliding over our wet perspiring bellies,
in our jungle heat:
'cause in the firmament of our embrace,
its hot,
where glued we jerk into each other,
stoking flames,
until sleep,
when we disappear from each other:
my mind crowds,
with niggling neurotic inanities;
yours with manic dreams where bed-wetting criminals in cages beg to be freed,
before better spaces overtake.
When I awake,
I am lying next to you,
Gwen over the horizon of your fertile valley,
a mountain,
white and reposed,
You,
murmuring desire for me.
Fuck!
I can't wait to answer.
It is late,
late morning,
and we are all half asleep.
You have your back to me,
as we lie,
rubbing feet,
stroking hands,
the oiled bulb at the end of a finger,
your fine shoulders,
(that delicate but persistent bone in your wrist that with pointed elegance,
stretches);
as quietly inside,
my couched penis,
rocks us;
warmly enveloped:
each diffusing into the other
like the early morning brew.
Lust and love,
closing-in,
which for a good while on edge had been:
the weeks,
days,
hours;
faint promises from afar;
sometimes a little closer,
our shadows in daylight cross,
as one over the other storms;
and once (or twice),
a sleeve brushes,
even better,
hair crackles,
as a speaking lip touches lobe,
and for a moment,
taking in the other's scent,
a hint sublimely overpowers.
And these,
dearest of fancies,
are just some,
with which to penetrate your mind,
as you have mine:
the energy of my yielding tendernessness,
inviting you to complete me,
as I spread for you with desire.
Much later,
those daring looks you have,
the way you walk our stage:
your beautiful bone china face,
those quick-fire arousing eyes,
your sultry self-assuredness,
your pre-possessing self.
I could talk about your couple,
of generosity,
reaching up,
beyond mere comprehension:
of the fact that I like Gwen
(his love gift for you, me);
but actually,
in truth,
I prefer to take this moment to make love to you;
to say how wrapped I am,
folded in your limbs,
in our mingling sweat;
how with your joy,
you touch my desires,
into yours,
so they flow,
run rather:
honeysuckle from your blessed nymphae.
You love my smell,
you say,
and I dream of gathering you in pheromones,
of drugging you,
of intoxicating you,
so once again you will find me,
take me,
have me.
Entice you once more like a creature from its shell:
Come!
where I can ravish you,
all of you,
lay naked to me,
flesh,
sinews,
everything,
your very bones;
those fine elbows,
those knees I would like to ejaculate over;
wash their smooth surfaces in my come:
from these cliff heights,
rain semen on the rocks below.
To once more cast aside your socks and get at your toes,
to pour oil on 'em,
to rub and squeeze' em,
while in the moist cavern of your insides,
we fuck,
half washed over by our own tide.
And as we do,
I quail,
speaking sweet nothings of appreciation;
from full lips,
your sounds return,
the hypnotic rhythm of your breath:
I engorge and in our labyrinth,
There,
Sweet Lentiform,
you did it,
you got me rolling in flesh,
lusting after your intimate parts,
wanting you in bed as I know you must have me:
pulling me on you,
kissing and biting,
making me pop,
plying my cock in your palm;
running over my nethers a curved finger.
Lying,
lying,
side-by-side,
lying prone,
lying fucked,
never unconsumed,
because,
please,
please us,
with more;
so rarely,
unfucked even for a pause,
nothing doing more than sleeping and carousing;
our sustenance barely enough to keep us at it,
an occasional comic thrown in.
Oh,
God,
throw the fucking comic at me,
will you?
Fucking beat my flesh with it if you like.
Anything to see you standing in all your naked pearly glory!
And if you can,
keep texting me,
so I can hang on your every word like a fucking puppy!
Beautiful long-haired,
skin tight,
upright,
wise,
gorgeously wild,
woman ...
Now pull me by my cock into your cunt -
where I love it best.
