HIM

His Essence, impeccable.
His smile, bright as summer mornings.
His voice, as deep as the well behind the old farm
speaking eloquently, with conversations to last til dawn.
I want him.
He isn't mine!
I close my eyes & pretend he is...

My tongue so desperately dancing
with his, to the beat of my throbbing treasure.
His lips, committed to mine.
I appreciate him. I show him.
His neck holds the scent of expensive cologne
and the taste of Godiva chocolate.
This is his spot.
Weakening his entire body
strengthening his shaft.
I connect the dots, leaving his neck, kissing his chest,
savoring the taste of love.
He's intrigued.

His king throne awaiting the warmth & comfort
of what he deserved.
My mouth to all of him,
slowly teasing, leaving evidence of what I enjoyed.
He's free. He's pleased.  
His aura is of tranquility & love.
I ride him.
The slowest tempo of mood music played,
matching my hips to the sound.
Like the river's mist, I'm down like a waterfall.
He cries. This isn't a sex session.
This is passion.
I adore his body. I appreciate him.
I love everything about him.
His dimples, his humor, his eyes.
I feel the sensation of  a release.
Slow wining my hips to feel all of him deeply inside me,
my G-spot is reached.
I continue pleasing him,
noticing he's prepared for a shared orgasm.
Tightening my muscles, as his King throne taps my spot, my river squirts.
My treasure, his throne,
mutually releasing into the room the tension of passion.
His presence gave me this entire vision.

I open my eyes to watch him walk away with whom I imagine is his woman
someone I underestimate giving him what he needs, desires, deserves...
I wish he was my him