The Storm

A twisting vortex whirls upon me,
stripping my mind of unnatural conventions.
Blood and sinew pounding and stretching,
to the rhythm of torrential madness.

Pounding into her battered body,
scratching and tearing her,
the claws of the maddened animal,
released in the throes of excitement.

She screams to no avail... my grip only tightens.
Thrusting harder inside her silken darkness.
Eyes shut tight, head arched back,
Sweat mixing with her musky wetness.

Is she awake? Aware?
She must give in... must give herself to it.
Fatigue sets, but I continue... just a bit longer,
As if to embolden my pride, my own self-conscience.

Rippling explosive waves overtake us,
sending my mind spinning with relentless speed.
Bucking and thrusting against me,
Threatening me with the satisfaction of her desires.

I growl and face it down as she rolls me back,
scratching, beating, biting.
And send my last reserves to splatter upon the rocks.
Finally, quietly we lay, tired and worn... yet alive.

Slowly, a smile comes to my lips and is pressed down upon me,
Thanking me and caressing over me like rolling water.
A mere laugh releases the remaining tension,
And we sleep away the clouds, awaiting the warm morning sun.