RIDING THE STORM

I am riding the storm of his lust,
his fingers twiddle tips of my bust,
while my hands pin his shoulders to bed,
A bareback ride, both of us naked.

I, cowgirling and bearing down.
In contractions' reverie I drown,
as my silk walls rhythmically meet
the upward thrusts of his erect meat.

I'm fucking him like a mindless whore;
he moans, 'Can't keep it in any more"
"Just give it me!" His pet name out I blurt'
He responds with a fountainous spurt
that threatens to inundate my womb.
Our ecstatic breaths fill the bedroom,
our loud oaths echo off the room's walls.
I reply to his emptying balls
dousing him with the last overflow
of juices I happily let go.

I slump tits down on his barrel chest,
cradle his head in arms as I rest
while up down my smooth back his hands glide,
my legs languidly straddle him astride.

We're both aware the bed is now wet.
but we don't feel like getting up yet
until, with settling down of our breaths
we rise again from our little deaths,

Our feet are back on the bedroom floor,
then we walk to leisurely shower,
separately washing bodies down
before we step out to work in town.