On the wings of lust

I stroked her soft brown velvet quim
laid on silken sheets of sin

abandoned tomorrow for tonight
to sample those hard-won delights

the urgency of my intentions
coloured with gentleness and affection

her hand reached for my rampant cock
released a gasp while taking stock

for the greater part of rapture lies
in the mind behind the eyes

beneath my hand her nipples hardened
juices flow and her thighs are parting

with each thrust the fuse grows shorter
in that endeavour each gives no quarter

preciousness enjoyed in a jeweller's window
each climax, howling like a dingo

for its a gift and not a right
when an angel lift's your appetite