Secret Pleasure

Alone.
Finally alone.
Door closed and locked,
lights off; privacy.

My fingers slide down,
lower until they reach their destination.
The skin there is warm and wet,
oh so very wet.
Beginning slowly, I caress
the key that unlocks the door
to what I dearly long for.
My finger wanders across
exposed flesh, taking careful
time finding sensitivity.
I stop, where it begins.

Holding there,
the intensity builds; my heart is racing
and my breath is short.
Both hands are immersed in creating 
a pleasure so intense my body shudders.
The barricade is breached;
first, a second of breath-catching pain
leaving only pleasure behind.
First, one finger enters,
and then a second joins the first.

In and out; out and in, 
they move in rythmical balance
like a perfectly struck piano chord
the pleasure tunes my body
into a world a melodic genius.

Slick walls increase speed
into manic euphoria.
My world turns into that
of unimaginable feats.
My head throws back
and laughter escapes my mouth.

When the sheets are saturated,
and I am out of breath and satisfied,
then, and only then
does life resume.