Ode #10

Do you feel that? The warm grainy,
rough touch. The sensations that cover you,
cover your smallest of places to touch.
Do you feel that? The ridges quietly rolling
over you, barely moving.
Do you feel that? I squeeze.
The brownish pink changes shapes,
as though made to conform to my touch.
My skin on yours. Rough and soft, and yet
they swim together as though of the
same body.

Slowly you melt in my grasp as
gently, I massage your light portrusion before me.
Warm, soft, inviting, rigid.
A paradox in the making. A carnal tug pulls at you.
May our carrion shells meet each other more.
As fundamentaly you are stretched, so do my fingers
lightly pulling at the raisin ‘tween my firm gripping digits.
I slowly make rotation with my heated appendages.

Once insensed enough, we raise the volume.
My fingers brace, slowly glazed by my tongue.
Moistened, my eyes never leaving yours.

Wetted, my tips return to yours.
Slithering wth ease, wrapping around you.
Do you feel that? Is it wet?
Is it slick with my saliva?
The previous warm is now chilled.
The air around us reconditioning,
invoking your response.

Your frail tip puckers beneath my agitation.
I squeeze harder. Your eyes flare.
The air aroud me moves as you breathe in deep.
Do you feel that?
I tug harder, pulling you more.

In this small grip i pull you closer to me.
Dazed and blanketed i move to you as well.
Taking the love of your lips and savoring them.
Fullness rich and oceanic, the riot in my body
is not quelled for much longer.
Individual ridges in your lips are
paid hommage to as my tongue greets them.

Do you feel that? My tongue,
slowly weaving through your lips,
pursed, puckered. Lovely to the taste and touch.
I pray to the heavens my desire of you.
They press upon me what to do, guide my touch.
A Divine tutor to your body and inner sanctum.

I am led by angels,
to your favorite places to be caressed.
Do you feel that? Chills rumble up my spine as we kiss.
A delectable romantic passage of love
between two. My soul
wails out. Crying a diatribe for you.
My heartbelts out a dithyramb of your journeys,
your grace, your features,
Your grin, angelic and devilish.
i wait to harvest you from the grand tree,
to pluck you from the vines that yield perfection.

I squeeze once more to make your mouth water.
Your tongue searches for relief as it drowns in my
oral passageways.
Alas, i break our heart wrenching kiss.
And i gaze into your eyes.
I smile.