Ins and Outs

I like the ins and outs of how he works,
When sitting at his desk and figuring
The answers to his problems; nothing irks
This man who finds my pace is like to bring
New solutions to mind and, yes, to lips
That close around his member to deploy
A joyous sense of being to the tips
Of fingers, that are wrapped to play and toy
With curls, that like my head, move to and fro;
To keep him at his ease, while he expands
Within my mouth; he sighs; I feel the flow
Of his excitement boiling; his cock stands
And presses in, until I hear his shouts
And, then, the quiet; with no more ins and outs.