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Suggestive

These whispered enchantments
do little to quell the throbbing
pressed against the cotton
of my captivity

Spooning me
the sweetest medicine;
the narcotic of being wanted
massaging the tired arms
into that overwhelming need
to wrap them around you
unwilling to release the hold

You nibble at my neck
unbuttoning the work shirt
slipping the cool hand against my chest
speaking of things you have done
attending to my nipple
pleasing little pulls
seeing and feeling
the response
in my surrendered smile
tickling my mind
with eloquent words
and continued advancements.





Written by Tenderloin
Published
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