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Image for the poem Intimate picnic(part 2)

Intimate picnic(part 2)

Stronger still when I turn my hand
bend your fingers to gently massage
the wall at the entrance to your body.
I like to feel it throbbing around my fingers,
writhing, waddling with pleasure.
To see your desire grow even mo
when I dance around your bud with my thumb
when I roll over it.
I will spend my time offering you these pleasures,
but I know that we cannot stay here indefinitely.
And then etu is sufficiently excited
by this whimsical place in the middle of passers-by. Me too by the way, and your hands
know how to play perfectly around my machine
which is now so hard. I then left his soaked lair,
I quickly lower my pants, your panties,
lift your skirt, and in one of those famous hot kisses
where we almost eat each other,
I press my stinger against your bubbling slit.
I slide over the entrance to your body,
soaking up your runoff,
 I draw your lips with my glans until they are completely apart.


To be continued
moroccanpoet
Written by moroccanpoet
Published
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