deepundergroundpoetry.com
Thoughts of innocent.
Wandering fingers
thoughts that linger.
Eyes that roam
and lips that moan.
As pleasure comes
and fantasies run
through the dark night.
A battle,
I
cannot
fight.
Warmth against my cold skin,
as our bodies touch in mortal sin.
Gone is the girl
that blushes at the world,
the innocent mind,
the precious find,
As pleasure slips
inside her lips.
A different mask a hidden face,
as fingers trace
where moans do spill
and the mind
lets go at will.
Warm tongue
that runs
across my waiting clit,
Sucking, biting and a precious lick.
Bodies intertwined in pleasure,
Exploring this sin at leisure.
The beating clock.
The beating cock.
Pulsating, throbbing, deep inside,
naked spirits with nothing to hide.
Wandering fingers
and fantasies made,
here in this bed
where I am laid.
thoughts that linger.
Eyes that roam
and lips that moan.
As pleasure comes
and fantasies run
through the dark night.
A battle,
I
cannot
fight.
Warmth against my cold skin,
as our bodies touch in mortal sin.
Gone is the girl
that blushes at the world,
the innocent mind,
the precious find,
As pleasure slips
inside her lips.
A different mask a hidden face,
as fingers trace
where moans do spill
and the mind
lets go at will.
Warm tongue
that runs
across my waiting clit,
Sucking, biting and a precious lick.
Bodies intertwined in pleasure,
Exploring this sin at leisure.
The beating clock.
The beating cock.
Pulsating, throbbing, deep inside,
naked spirits with nothing to hide.
Wandering fingers
and fantasies made,
here in this bed
where I am laid.
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