Three

(a sonnet)
In rhythm’s pace, I tongue you stem to stern,
My deeper delve in every thrusting pass,
Then, to his tight and willing balls; in turn,
Our vigor takes to shaft and rimming ass.

With every draw, you suck my length to head,
In every lunge, I crest your waiting throat.
As cunt and mouth and deepest ass are spread,
Your pleasures groan at every opens’ gloat.

Oh, we three try to hold it in, unclear,
How tentative we move at pace’ increase,
Until at once all gush and flow revere,
In each the others’ joy of full release.

How deep our kiss as we all share the taste
Of you and me and him, that none should waste.