deepundergroundpoetry.com
WAKE UP CALL
With feline stealth
She climbs on top of his sleeping form
Draping her naked body over his,
like a safari trophy rug
Head pointing towards his feet
Her erect and swollen nipples
Graze his stomach as she inches toward her prize
She playfully caresses his furry seed sacs
Taking the low hanging fruit into her mouth
They seemingly ripen as she runs her tongue over each
She hungrily begins to lick his withered stalk
As if feeling the rays of the sun
It begins to rise to bask in her heat
She envelopes his fleshy rod between ruby lips
And swallows him whole
He awakens to a luscious, fragrant scene
Appearing as the first flower of Spring
peaking between two pure white mounds of snow
He touches the dark pink blossom
It melts with every gentle stroke
Now feeling his tongue licking her bud and his fingers probing her inner sanctum
Her breath quickens with the crescendo of her moans
Like gears meshing together
Their synchronous pleasuring
Drives this engine of ecstasy faster and faster
He can feel her torso convulse as she reaches paradise
She continues to work his pump
With a guttural cry and a shudder the gears grind to a halt
As he quenches her primal thirst with his hot, precious stream
She turns to face him and quietly whisper "good morning."
Originally posted in June 2013
She climbs on top of his sleeping form
Draping her naked body over his,
like a safari trophy rug
Head pointing towards his feet
Her erect and swollen nipples
Graze his stomach as she inches toward her prize
She playfully caresses his furry seed sacs
Taking the low hanging fruit into her mouth
They seemingly ripen as she runs her tongue over each
She hungrily begins to lick his withered stalk
As if feeling the rays of the sun
It begins to rise to bask in her heat
She envelopes his fleshy rod between ruby lips
And swallows him whole
He awakens to a luscious, fragrant scene
Appearing as the first flower of Spring
peaking between two pure white mounds of snow
He touches the dark pink blossom
It melts with every gentle stroke
Now feeling his tongue licking her bud and his fingers probing her inner sanctum
Her breath quickens with the crescendo of her moans
Like gears meshing together
Their synchronous pleasuring
Drives this engine of ecstasy faster and faster
He can feel her torso convulse as she reaches paradise
She continues to work his pump
With a guttural cry and a shudder the gears grind to a halt
As he quenches her primal thirst with his hot, precious stream
She turns to face him and quietly whisper "good morning."
Originally posted in June 2013
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