In Pussy We Thrust

The door swings wide, revealing the scene,
She sits there nude, a sultry queen.
Legs spread open, inviting and bare,
Her pussy glistens, a vision rare.

Moist lips part, like petals of pink,
Begging to be kissed, to savour and drink.
Her scent fills the room, a heady perfume,
As I approach, ready to consume.

With hunger in my eyes, I step inside,
Her warmth envelopes me, a sensual tide.
Juices flow freely, as I enter deep,
Her pussy grips tight, a promise to keep.

I thrust and I pound, lost in the heat,
Her moans fill the air, sweet and discrete.
Her walls contract, in ecstasy's dance,
As I lose myself in this primal trance.

Her pussy, a temple, I worship with pride,
Each thrust a prayer, as I ride the tide.
She arches her back, in pleasure's embrace,
As I plunge deeper, finding my place.

With every stroke, her juices flow,
A symphony of pleasure, in the afterglow.
In pussy we thrust, in its glory we find,
A sacred union, of body and mind.