The Evading Gunslinger...

Life on the run has been, liberating, fun
Sought, and caught in the heat of the sun  
By John Dillinger himself  
In the desert, on a bed of sand, stealing my panting breaths  

Legs linked around his neck  
Tenderly licking my cunt, then making love to my mouth, punishment as dealt  
Marring my delicate skin with his gun belt  
Surrendering to him my moans, my whimpers, scratching his back with fine welts  
Rapture unto us has been felt  

Between my thighs  
Fingering my pussy, tasting the gift inside  
Cupping my hips, pulling me into the fountain of his mouth  
No medicine to cure for his addiction to my wet south  
The best food he ravishes after he’s knelt  
Mm… His arrowing tongue marinating deep inside my honeyed wet  
Pluming my breasts, back flapping, ecstasy instilled, my body juices on his tongue begin to softly melt  
 
Uplifting his girth, shooting it inside  
Famished for my loving, no tenderness for his dick ride  
I cannot keep up  
Deeper and deeper plummeting inside my lover’s cup  
Licking over my lips  
Bearing his weight on me, palming my hips  
Double humping me, mmm… I’m loving his dominating harden hits  
 
“Let me feel you whore”  
Palming the sand, dipping inside me harder, sweat dripping from his pores  
Grunting in anger, darting his dick harder inside my pussy even more  
His lust, my submissive will, as bodies in the height of the moment set free  
My heart he has, passion spillage, emotions of mingling juices slowly we relieve  
 
Handcuffed, yet satisfied and brought in  
Demanding no one touches his pussy, or his guns will blaze once again  
Mm…. for the seduction of my wicked sins  
My drools of pleasure still glistening on his chin  
 
Later, that night  
Bodyguards posted at the door, for his seductress possible risk flight  
Pleasing his needs once again under silk covers  
Will not allow me to escape his bed, his French Creole poetic lover  
His dick hungrily slipping inside me  
Whispering in my ear he cannot live without my sultriness, my tease  
Weakening my will to walk away behind his begs, his pleads  
 
His tongue finding mine  
Bodies gyrating like moving sands of time  
Intoxicating our senses like sipping unto each other’s carnal wine  
Mm… he knows once he’s deep inside me  
I’m his by fate’s designs, as far as the eyes can see  
His lips hover  
Pulling him deep into me, my nipple his tongue lick, mouth smothers  
 
Kneeling once again on his knees  
My fetishes he knows by all degrees  
 
John Dillinger can be so demanding of his wants when he needs to cum  
Calling out to the skies, his satisfaction, our passion on the run  
Tasted the honey drippings from his dick, anchoring inside my creamy butter rum  
On my back he has me to the rising of the sun  
I was so sure three men would have dropped him with all those firing of blazing guns  
Sought, caught, the flame flickering drawing the virility of this handsome moth

I will see your ass when our fate once again collide
Make sure you duck my bullets
I will be the sexy gunslinger wearing a black hip belt, and a Glock plastered to my side

Pow-Pow motherfucka..


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