In the Embered Room

There they were in the Embered room
Surrounded with the smell of cinnamon and authome leaves
Dressed to exude crotchetiness
She wore lavender sheer lingerie
The nylons were darker with rims, toes, and heels
With clearly visible breast and a ardent inveterate
Looking into his dreamy eyes her body fluttered
Feeling like a scene out of her porno-glossal
Only to initiate acts of hand motions and lip-play
Conceiving the sharpening of iniquities
Clothing going down as with the sun
She was bound to delight on eager knees
As he grabbed her hair, thrusting inside her mouth
Causing a dampness between her legs, only to be masturbated
Giving out a small orgasm
Proceeding to get up, wrapping her arms around his neck
He led the lubricated quivering enrapture
A preparation that excited her, spurring heavy breathing
Only than for her barring lunar curvature to wraith
She was intoxicated by the pleasure and pain
Leisurely playing with her clit like a soulpted nymph
Whilst he was ambitious for a sweet base relief
Deep inside the succulent, preying into her mania
She begs for the end, sprung with an unquenched desire
Spilling like the moonlight from her glistened rear