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Click hereWhere shall I start?
Where shall I end?
I, your man, full of woeful sins.
Poor paced beginnings are never best.
I apologize for kissing your blush painted breast.
What was I thinking?
Sex for one to go!
I apologize for my ménage à moi!
How obvious the honey-lubed clam.
Never enjoys such a selfish sham.
I apologize for rushing my mouth south,
When your neck begged for kisses in pouts.
And when you squeezed your legs tight.
I misread the active legs’ bite,
As pleasure received and more to invite.
It wasn’t until your slap snapped my face,
I realized I misplayed your microspace.
You avoided my slam, bam thank you ma’am.
Preventing a love quarrel, a heated logjam.
There I’ve apologized for my beginning.
My naughty, mighty little vice.
Let me make it up, and love you right!
With tenderness, cleverness and witty touches
Of tongue and teeth in places you’ve seldom
Caressed and enjoyed alone.