His fingers in my mouth

In moments of passion, my words find their flow,
Expressing desires I'm not afraid to show.
The touch of his fingers, a feeling so sweet,
Captivating my senses, taking me so deep.

My lips, his playground, wrapped around digits strong,
Embracing the texture, where ecstasy belongs.
A tender reminder, mouth meant to be explored,
By his hand or his love, it's a feeling adored.

Caressed by touch, a sensation divine,
My mouth becomes a canvas, his fingers align.
Tongue swirling around, craving each touch,
A rendezvous of pleasure, I desire so much.

As sleep beckons me, his thumb finds its way,
A comforting presence that lulls me to sway.
In slumber's embrace, I find peaceful rest,
Suckling his thumb, an act I'm truly blessed.

But there are times when he calls me close,
Feeding my hunger, a moment I chose.
Summoned to his presence, I crawl with grace,
My mouth yearns for his finger, a familiar embrace.

Impaling my mouth upon his index finger,
Intimate moments that make my heart linger.
My mouth is meant to be violated, by finger or cock
I suck everything like a lollypop.

He feeds me bites of his dinner,
which I kiss from his fingers.
Nourished by morsels shared, an intimate gesture,
the food taste like a different texture.

When my words tires him, he is bored of my chatter,
he makes me stop by putting his finger on my lips,
Like a pacifier, I crave that sweet taste,
Submitting to his dominance, with passion that sips.

For in every moment, I know and I feel,
That my body, my essence, to him, is ideal.
Each sacred hole, a testament and a vow,
In his ownership, I find solace and how.