SACRED PAIR

My sacred pair is hanging
on my chest while you're banging
me up against bedhead
as my legs, round you, are spread.

Freed of their satin support,
their nakedness your eye caught,
filling your face with wonder
before I undressed under.

I feel them swinging freely,
then hands, on them, get feely,
fingers spread on my nipples,
sparking off renewed ripples.

My hips upon a pillow
aid penetration below
of your tool of my delight
you bring me this bridal night.

When of our love we've given
and attained Seventh Heaven,
that pair is your head's cushion
in our wind-down from passion.