Four Laps

And we're off!
Sweet dreams? Not tonight!
Come the fading of the light,
bodies' impulse so impolite
Voracious, blinding,
Demanding
their needs be fed.
Nasty we tussle, biting
horny lovers collaborating
hard and unyielding
in the soft and tossed aside sheets.
Tingling and throbbing
the muscles within us yearn.
For the give and
taking of the combining motion.

And as the eyes find the blood
flow pounding in them
stimulated, resoundingly insightful
of bared skin and each other's
scintilation, rolling, glaring with ecstasy
of the eye's white
under the spell of the arousing crescendo,
the ebb, the full-fillment
the sight set on the laps ahead.

In our ears
squeaking protests of the bed.
The grunting exertions
eagerly expected
and whipped further, faster
I the stallion, cropped
determined, trained, powerful
astride his impatient jockey.
My efforts rage in the pounding heart
the home stretch ahead
felt, built, coveted, shared.
Emitted, won.

Together we sigh
at the end of the ride,
gasping rut-scentd air.
The nite nearly spent, our only lament?
As we rubbed the hottest parts aflame,
the inferno inside you so hot
We melted, a splendid lather
the liquid ran,
down our legs after the passion
full throttle came?
We did not catch our given names
before our breath were stifled
in a kiss, that starting gate of fate
that sent us round and round
four laps.