Our rhymes
Are on time
And our wit
Is hard to get

But your gas to my fire
Is enough to spark wires
And inspire heat

But not the kind
That burns down shanties
But the kind that excites
And slides down *******

The dry and calloused hands
of wit sharpened
and refined

The keeping of the fire
as her arousal, assured
playing with her mind

It's not a simple variance
each puzzle, a different kind of view
getting her excited, and her bra removed

No ******* and no bra
I look in wonder, stare in awe
At the statuesque beauty in front of me
My eyes capture and store what it sees

A tentative touch of skin to skin
I may not know the trouble I'm in
As thoughts turn to original sin
At this point the line is mighty thin

So I cross it with a kiss
Roam her body, no spot I miss
Friction sparks ignite the flame
Man I love to play this game

Flick of my Bic
Or of my tongue
Either way
She will squirm
From my licks
Or my words
Both can cause
Passions to burn

Tongue tip
Long **** sip
Juices flow
See the glow
Here to dine
For a time

Sliding into memories,
her scent, her feel, her remedies
Breaking bad, breaking me,
repair, a simple thought you see
Her silken hands and gentle touch, setting me forever, free

Her needs are mine, her smallest thoughts, decree
My body hers, my confusion swept, as if debris

I hold to what I know is true, there is no me, without, you....