JUICY AS A FRUIT

When you are stripped down to your birthday suit,
I like to get you juicy as a fruit.
It is not for this man a hasty ‘score’
But a leisurely rousal of your core.
I cup, kiss and suck each hardening breast
Till your nipples sprout, showing interest.
Then at a pace that’s aimed to tantalise,
I kiss and feel downwards towards your thighs…
Then I deliver playful strokes and nips
To stimulate your silky nether lips,
And playing away on your clitoris,
To create ecstatic waves of bliss.
Those waves echo, onto my kissing male face,
By what flows from your most feminine place.

Your legs part wider, you hold my face close,
Like bee to plant claiming his nectar dose.
Indeed, to your laughs, I call to the sky
The Bard’s words: “WHERE THE BEE SUCKS, THERE SUCK I!”
I sense and hear your moaned desperation
To bring on the act of copulation.
You pull on my head's hair, the final cue
To raise myself higher and enter you,
Achieving full-length penetration
Helped by the abundant lubrication.
Then I move my body, in you and out,
Until we both orgasmically spout,
Both in terms of our words in ecstasy,
And the fluids exchanged ‘twixt you and me.