An Intermission

He loves to wrap me in his mature arms;
He loves to hold me gently for a while,
To let my breathing slow; he's had my charms;
And, now, will keep me warm; I feel his smile,
Warming my cheek down against his shoulder;
I'm sensing that he is kissing my hair;
One hand presses my belly and, much bolder,
The other squeezes bottom cheeks, as bare
As he is dressed, delighting in the promise,
I offer curled up there in master's lap;
He's dressed: a premise, to be truly honest,
I rather like; just as I love his slap
That comes before I squat down on the floor;
For him to fuck me ass up: yay! once more.