Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2012
one...

fingertip he traced

two...

to lips he'll taste...wet

three...

caresses; trembled haste

four...

cradles softness, plump derriere

five...

covers breast tweaking, lingering there

shuddering as tongue parts me, like a sweet eclair
breathless; fingers entangled in hair

he's says:

baby, straddle thickness, love me right here...ahhhhh!!!! yes!!!
Written by
Debra A Baugh
1.8k
   Debra A Baugh
Please log in to view and add comments on poems