Room at the End

Sits silently. as the writhings of the girl coalesce
like a cascade of colours over Him
....as she moves against Him...
her  lips grasping at His stoic member.
wanting to swallow...engulf, take...
and she does....
                Then rocks....
slowly as the stars emerge
and the leaves rustle through
the slitherings of lemmings come to roost
...Drawn by her scent and His arousal...
hard and rampant, echoes of hooves
galloping across the stone gourds
...her breasts swollen , mimicking His shaft....
taking the role of a singer,
those tones dropping like little peals of music
when He sluices through the flood of her juices
....rushing and soaking...
what else could He do
....Inside and outside, words to meander....
seeds fall where they may,
He wants and she desires
...who will make and who will listen....
Stroking ..and bucking up,
claiming and writing the mark of ownership...
who in this firmament can claim as He does
...who will stand to take...
save Him.
..and she lies beneath...spent ,
and used,
like a cartridge that once held a load
and now holds a dream.