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Click hereYou touched me,
softly,
and my breath got stuck in my throat on its way to my lungs.
The electricity of your fingertips as they danced,
fluttered across my naked skin,
made my blood race to my nipples and my sex.
I was wet before your lips met that sensitive place just above my collarbone;
I could feel the dew in my panties,
and I blushed even as I felt myself blossoming,
warming at the very thought of what it might be like to take you inside of me.
Your hands found the small of my back just as I felt my legs start to fail,
and my heart was thudding hard in my chest,
but I melted into your embrace.
I felt the intoxicating tingle of your tongue as it darted out,
tasting me before you pressed your soft mouth against my neck.
I became open,
a wide ocean of delicious joy,
as you explored my skin with your lips,
tongue,
and teeth.
You fucked me with our clothes still on,
our bodies separate except for your strong hands at my back and your deep,
liquid kiss on my arching neck.
I love the sensuality of this, but I would (gently) suggest that you leave the last strophe off entirely. I think it stands powerful enough on its own without the last stanza as a qualifier of sorts. We can already feel the intensity of this kiss.
I enjoyed this poem, however the line "he fucked me...
didn't seem to fit into this poem. I feel it went from sensual- to sexual. Nothing wrong with that, just thought it would have been better all sensual, or all sexual.