Playing with your poet

Playing with your poet

My words reach across the void they put a wiggle in your day, it's like I'm there touching you, your mind wanders, you're now aching for some play

You get home and go straight to your room, you need to be alone, you climb on your bed and get comfy, you open up your mobile phone

You begin to read my poetry it makes your pussy wet, as you read you stroke yourself but your not ready yet

At the moment you get a message it's your kinky poet on the phone, asking have you enjoyed the recent reads and are you on your own

You blush but you answer yes thn you confess you were going to have a little play, your poet says he'd be glad to help, just do everything I say

You make yourself comfy adjusting pillows on your bed, you close your eyes and let your poet loose inside your head

You follow my instructions your hands now belong to me, you slide your hands down your body all inhibitions now are free

Dampness meets your fingers, you dip your finger in a take a taste, I ask you what's your flavour to which you reply I taste of sweetness and desire, sucking your fingers with most haste

One hand on your moistened pussy the other playing inside your bra, ecstasy getting closer orgasms seems close and not that far

I whisper I'm now between your thigh, legs over my shoulders as I lick your Rose, my fingers deep inside you as you quiver from your head down to your toes

Once you've cum I move up your body on your hardened nipples I start to suck, I slide my hungry cock inside you as we begin to start to fuck

Your brain now doing overtime you tell me you gonna cum, I tell you you must refrain from doing that until I've decided we are done

Dangling on the very edge you ask please can you start to cum, I leave you on the edge for a while then tell you the play is done

With a shudder you release yourself there's now a damp patch in your bed, a reminder of what happens when there's a kinky poet playing in your head

I tell you your wet panties now belong to me, they are the spoils of war, quietly I'm delighted to please you it's what I write my poems about you for

Ron