On Watching a Guy

On your couch, you let me watch.
Fingers pumping like a dancer.
Squeezing, sliding, pulling, knowing your flesh
Like I never could. I hear your hitched breath,
Your hand jerks and paints and shackles my soul as you gasp
For air. Your tattoos ripple. And suddenly without warning
The piercing sweet musical cry torn from your white throat,
That beautiful opaque creaminess pulsing hard from your poetic cock.
My stomach melts and tightens in response, I squeeze my thighs
Together in splintering need, my pussy is desperate for what shimmers
Like diamonds on the floor.
Your gorgeous kissable stomach quakes and heaves
As errant white drops scatter and make me want to lick the walls in thirst.
I love you, I scream in my mind, careful not to utter such words.
I love you.