Watermelon Dreams

Decked out in nothing but lace
An inviting grin upon her face

She sits before you sweetly
Her hair and make-up done so neatly

Blanket beneath protects skin
The picnic is about to begin

A knife to cut the green fruit
She raises it once in a swift salute

The blade bites into hard green
Slicing both the jade and white parts clean

Cloven into two parts wide
Revealing the pink, red flesh inside

Juice flows from the opened gourd
Brown eyes glisten as she sees her hoard

Rocking forward on her hips
She brings the precious food to her lips

Eager to drain the juice within
She's soon covered in pulp, cheek and chin

Tendrils of pink fluid run
And in her haste her hair comes undone

Locks of russet meet pink juice
As across her nape the fluids sluice

Then down to her waiting breasts
Rose tears cascade over those pale crests

Looking up her eyes meet yours
As the juice rolls over her contours

Satiated now herself
She lies back to offer you her wealth

Dripping in watermelon
A vision to rival Troy's Helen

You move to her, tongue ready
The scents of woman and fruit, heady

Devouring sweet rivers made
Your mouth travels courses once forbade

Her nipples, peaks growing hard
Sugared valleys you swiftly discard

Licked clean of fruit, still you need
Seeking her cunt you begin to feed

She moans beneath your caress
Her own juices soon flowing in excess

She writhes under tender touch
As if sensations could prove too much

She gasps, shudders, spasms and screams
Indulged in your watermelon dreams