Poetry Sexing

Poetry sexing, with bad intentions on my mind.
As you're thrown on the couch, like a grape on a vine.
Dangling and ripe waiting to be turned into wine.
I pull you out flat and run my hands between your thighs.
I peel off your cloths to reveal what is mine.
Lushes and sweet with a glimmer in your eye.
My plans are to ravish you until you begin to cry.
But until then I promise everything will be fine.
I kiss on your neck and slowly slide it deep inside.
As I hold your legs up and you point your toes to the sky.
I'll start this off slow and build momentum within time.
The expression on your face knows what's on my mind.
I begin to thrust even harder now there's nothing to hide.
I place one hand above your shoulder so there is nowhere to slide.
Your moans turn into screams and now you see my intention weren't so kind.
Pinned down, jamming every inch deeper until I see tears roll down your eyes.
Then you feel me relax and my dick throbbing inside.
You kiss me on the forehead and hold really tight.