TAKING ME FOR HIS OWN

In place where we can be alone,
clothes discarded and turned off phone,
with my hunk of testosterone,
turned on, he says, by my skin tone
and spirits from the standing stone.
All over my bare body prone,
rough hands seek out each pleasure zone,
 
The proximity of his bone,
shows with excitement it has grown.
Ignoring nearby sound of drone,
he takes me with cavemannish groan,
tells me he wants me for his own.
Within my depths his seed is sown,
in Seventh Heaven mind is blown.