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Image for the poem Angel

Angel

My Angelís brown hair spills down her bare back as she stands in front of the mirror.

From my angle on the bed I can see her near perfect tits waiting for attention. Nipples hard and ripe like little raspberries.

I get up slowly from the bed and she watches me approach through my reflection in the mirror. She has that look in her eyes as I put my arms around her waist.

The wet spot of anticipation is evident on her thong as I admire her curves in the mirror.

I wonder what sheís thinking but her look says it all. Big brown eyes stare back at me with want. With need. With a need to milk my seed.

My hardness presses against her back.

I pull her hair back and kiss her neck, my hand dipping below the equator of her thong but stopping shy of her pendant.

She tilts her head and closes her eyes as she feels my mouth on her skin.

The stain at the crossroads of her thighs deepens.

She turns and drops to her knees, pulling my shaft from my boxer shorts.

She looks up at me as her tongue reaches out to slowly lick my swollen tip. My pre-cum hangs in a thin line like a tether from my cock to her tongue.

Her mouth and warmth envelopes me as much as it can. With a push of her head I can feel me slide down her throat, my balls in her hands.

Wth a few strokes of her mouth she strokes me at the same time.

She gets to her feet and ambles over to the edge of the bed. Down on all fours, she turns to look at me, her ass and sticky thong beckoning me.

I walk to her slowly admiring the view, thinking of how Iím going to violate her.

I reach down to pull her thong aside, her angelís wings laden with dew, her halo cracked, weeping and about to be tarnished.
Written by Poetic_Quill (Mister Write)
Published
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