The ruse of those
who in tender soft parts
flutter and twitch in honey glaze
while in mind's eyes see that ripe mushroom
wishing lips could pay homage to nature's firm gift
and silken velvet mould snugly that marrow that grows
to feel the reach in stretched and dewy harmony like never before
lighting flames running with chirpy highs and grunted lows
delving into a furnace and stoking rhythms o'la la
as told in tales of 'you are just so so amazing'
but alas its only real in muted imagines
so in ruse they **** and poke
to garner attention
for fingers and
dreams

the forbidden fruit
oh so sweet and enticing
glistening mocha's known warmth
revving that drowns senses in smooth motion
the difference in touch and feel yet feels as right as rain
full lips purring nibbles on the hardened points of softness
bold and eager to enter the heated gate and find welcoming abode
you have taken the scenes and made it yours as you like it
in another's embrace with eyes closed you play it out
when alone and softness calls you see the Moor
in flick hands you feel out hot shivers
in your mind the story unfolds
creamy waves flows
your dark secret
your guilty
pleasure