Thanks for the battle bra, MidnightSonneteer! A terza rima

     
Knees padded against abrasion      
the scent of musk deeply inhaled      
against my cheek a sensation      
     
Hands in my hair, my mouth impaled    
Precome swirled along your thickness      
With tongue against a soft exhale      
     
Hips jack, wet need, hands do witness    
urging your ass to pump harder    
to make my throat your new mistress      
     
On my knees I take your ardor    
I grip your your shaft, your lead followed      
leaving me no words to barter      
     
Eyes meet, lips stretch, cheeks hollowed;      
the difference between like and love?    
Choosing to spit or to swallow