Once was just another kiss,
a touch is a rush of traffic as my
heartbeat quickens with anticipation.
Words become jammed in my mouth,
like cars in a congested city street during rush hour.

Those who try their luck celebrate their achievements,
toasting with glasses filled with
champagne that sparkles like stars in the night sky.
Cigarette ashes under the covers serve as a reminder of the passionate moments shared,
creating an intimate and comforting
ambiance right after we make love.

The dusk of dust casts a warm,
brown tint on the strands of your hair,
enhancing your allure.

It is no surprise then that your thoughts
possess a hint of naughtiness,
as they mirror the intoxicating desire we share.
I eagerly drank from your shallow lips,
indulging in the taste of passion and longing.
Your hips embraced me, pulling me deeper into
the pool of your thighs, where pleasure knows no bounds.

Gosh, I had my fingers in you, exploring the depths of your desires with every touch and caress.
I snapped a couple of rubbers, ensuring our connection remained safe and protected.
I yearned to feel the same elation that you brought me,
to experience the same level of ecstasy
as I filled you up with love and desire.

You may have thought of love,
while I viewed it as an incredibly satisfying
and passionate encounter.
One who loves to love should be cautious not
to fall in love with someone who simply
loves to engage in physical pleasure.