WHEN YOU MASSAGE MY BACK

When your loving hands massage my back,
a wetness wells up within my crack,
which as you progress will be streamy,
but I don't care, I am so dreamy.
as my workday stresses fall away,
savouring way your hands on me play,
upon my shoulders and my forearms,
neck, back thighs, calves, ankles and feet palms,
where your expert reflexive squeezing
makes sure all 'corners' find some easing.

The pool forming under my downturned thigh
catches your nose and your lusty eye,
In it you deftly dip some fingers,
bring them to my nose, so it lingers.
You take them to your lips, give them taste,
pronounce, 'You're too sweet to go to waste'
stand close enough so I feel the stub
of your awakening on me rub,
communicating you're turned on
by my content moaning when fargone.