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Mar 2015
You turn off the light and the candles are aflame.
The air is smooth and sensual with their smells.

You look nervous, don't worry, just relax and come to me.
It will only hurt at first, but then you'll be in heaven.

You eyes glide overΒ Β and you slowly shy closer,
You close your eyes and lower yourself till you're just a little above.

Lowering your trousers carefully before sitting on top of me.
After a minute, you start to pant, I recognize your expression.

You grunt and moan, your body getting tense with hotness.
Your half-naked body sweating.

You're grunting louder now
You bite your lip,
It's only been a few minutes
Yet I know it feels like hours.

Here it comes, I know you feel it.
Your face is full of pleasure.
And then, it happens.

Your breathing is slower,
Your face is relaxed.
A smile flutters on your face as your relive the last few minutes in your mind.

But then you stand,
Where are you going?
Stay here with me just a little longer.

Your trousers slide up.
And the feelings are gone.
You blow out the candles,
Then leave the room...

I am in love with you.
In love with the woman,
Who only sees me...

As her toilet.
This is a humour poem about a woman and her toilet
Adam Miles Christopher Bell
Written by
Adam Miles Christopher Bell  20/M/Sunderland
(20/M/Sunderland)   
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