Gap (A Fantasy Therapy Session)

Her two feet
Two feet too far
From my two feet.
My line of sight lifts
to find her fingers.
Fantasy kindles,
Snips her nails down to skin,
And her phantom splits my slit
To slip her fingers inside me.
She pumps my slick to an ancient rhythm;
Her other hand grips my nape
And she rapes my mouth with her tongue.
She builds the fuck like a craftsman
Confidently calibrated strokes
Attuned to meet each thrust of my cunt
Slamming into her palm,
My cum pooling in the hollow of her lifeline
Filling her just as she fills me
Until I gush
And crush her finger cock
With the strength of every sex seizure
I've had alone crying out her name.
My abs implode
Every spasm striving
To make her a permanent resident,
Grasping and pulling her deeper in
Aching to dwell
In the sacred mutual posture of fuck
As long as eros will accept this tribute
To the miracle of ecstasy upon ecstasy
And the filling of the gap.