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Joe Oct 2020
Hunter needs to ***
But he is up in a tree
Now it is raining
I like to drink the rain
I crave you;
I savor the perfume
That fills the air when your legs part,
I cherish the brush of my fingertips
Against your thighs,
I adore your tiny little moan
As I enter your sacred space,
I worship at your altar,
Caressing every inch of you
As our bodies move together,
Yours arching to meet mine,
Toes curling and fingers scrambling
For purchase against the silk sheets,
I treasure the way you whimper
When I whisper in your ear,
“Mine,” and your answer is simple –
You can find more of my poetry at

— The End —