To Cum and Cumming

Mystery shrouds one event that could make most men cry,
Experienced by hundreds of thousands of them worldwide,
Each by groan, grunt, gasps, tears and releasing sigh,
Common but impossibly, individually, unable to describe.

It flows from deep within them, a torrent singular in thought.
Self control is brought to bare, feelings of right and naught.
Vowed forever by some to cease, secretly yearned but fought,
Driving desire, raging physical fire and invading every thought.

The other, the object, the love, the fixation, poised and stunning,
A stroke, a touch, blood flows hard as steel, resistance shunning.
Rough, soothing, warm, cooling of stroking or gentle tonguing,
Intensely bated, attenuated, urges their body towards cumming.

Tensing, commencing in freefall they teeter, fleeting moments slow.
Rushing, wanting, dreading pleasure's end, they're dropping far below.
Decent into heaven, their soul feels release, pleasure now they know.
Uncontrolled sensation, in pressured release, their cum begins to flow.

Cumming...

Cumming...

Cumming...