Breathless Metamorphosis

I can't keep my hands still
against the cool linen sheets
instead they stretch
each finger luxuriates
catlike as they press nerves
into sensation.

I can't stop my touch
wandering closer
heat beckons fingertips
with warmth and promises
pleasurable wetness.

My metamorphosis so sudden,
from hand to tongue, the tip
twisting infinity around juicy
sustenance, served on platters
of pelvis and hip. Offered
without reservation and taking
much more.

I don't want my fingers to stop
the pressure; swollen, burst,
splash of scalding heat
over my belly and dripped
along the crease to spill
over into amazing.