Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 8
No teasing, no wait, just pure delight,
I take him in, my mouth grips tight.
My tongue glides slow, tracing his head,
Feeling him throb as my hunger’s fed.

The taste of him lingers, salty and raw,
My lips move steady, without a flaw.
Up and down, two strokes in a row,
My hands explore him, my passion on show.

I stroke his shaft, cradle his need,
******* him deep, fulfilling his greed.
His moans grow louder, his breath a cry,
His hips buck wildly, reaching the sky.

Wanting, needing, his control is gone,
I take him deeper, until he’s undone.
Styles
Written by
Styles  NYC
(NYC)   
440
   DENNY R ALLISON
Please log in to view and add comments on poems