A Monsoon Drive to ...

 
Through Mumbai’s pulse, they start the ride,  
Longing hearts on this journey glide.  
Monsoon whispers, soft and true,  
As rain-drenched skies reveal their hue.  

Their car winds down the Western Ghats,  
Mountains draped in misty hats.  
Verdant valleys, rivers that swell,  
Nature’s fragrance, a fresh, sweet spell.  

The road is theirs, and so are they,  
Their bodies speak, they start to play.  
He teases her thighs, light fingertips trace,  
A lover's dance, a passionate pace.  

Her fingers find the gear in his hand,  
Shifting between each quick command.  
She grips his thigh, with eyes so bold,  
A storm within, impossible to hold.  

One hand on the wheel, the other at rest,  
Wandering, finding her hidden breast.  
With speed and thrill, he holds her tight,  
Eyes on the road, yet lost in the night.  

He skims her thighs, a skirt lifted high,  
Room for his touch, as the moments fly.  
The rhythm builds, the engine roars,  
In their private world, behind closed doors.  

As the car moves fast, her breath runs wild,  
In the storm of speed, she’s both woman and child.  
Wrapped in the thrill, the beat, the drive,  
In the monsoon's heart, they feel alive.  

As the monsoon’s rhythm drummed against the car,  
She felt the growing intensity, a pull so far.  
With a knowing smile, she whispered low,  
“Take a detour,” and he knew where to go.  

They found a hidden spot, where trees stand tall,  
And the world outside began to fall.  
The rain softened as they moved to the back,  
Close enough now, no sense of lack.  

She reached for him, pulled him near,  
Savoring each moment, casting away fear.  
His hands explored familiar ground,  
Tracing curves where love was found.  

The warmth between them grew and grew,  
His hand on her thigh, her heart racing through.  
He lowered himself, her gaze he met,  
In that shared silence, all cares were set.  

In that space, they found a language of their own,  
A conversation that needed no tone.  
The world beyond the car melted away,  
Leaving them in intimacy’s sway.  

Goa awaits, but they take their time,  
Bound by passion, a lovers’ rhyme.  
The rain pours down, yet they’re complete,  
In the dance of love, a moment so sweet.