Down the Spiral

I've been caught.
Struck by her eyes,
Taken by her form,
I've been entangled in want.

I've been fixated.
Compelled by her lasciviousness,
Which feeds my own,
I've been enwrapped.

I've been enchanted.
Panting from the sound of her voice,
Wishing to take her,
I've become lustful.

I often find myself daydreaming;
I run my tongue along her pale skin;
I run it down below her belly button
To a spot which makes her gasp.

It has been done before, perhaps,
But not by me.

She whispers my name;
She whimpers for me;
She grabs against me and moans my name.

Then she asks and I wait.
Then she asks with pretty please and I wait.
Then she whimpers again in longing and I wait no more.

She lays herself down;
She waits for it, giddy, snaking from side to side in anticipation;
I press myself against her exposed, hot flesh.

She presses her fingers against me, guiding me, wanting to feel it.

Then in a slow push the world seems to slow for us.
Everything spins into a dream of incredible warmth and tightness.
No poetic words are ever enough to define such euphoria.

Huffing,
Panting,
Bouncing.

Grasping,
Eye contact,
Giggling.

Heat like a sweet song,
Wetness like nothing before,
Pleasure boundless, secret ones just for us.

We spiral down into a well of moans;
We drift into connected, raunchy, desire;
Down, down, down we spin,
The only sound that guides us are moans of bliss.