Midnight Ride

Listen dear people to the tale I spin
of the midnight ride of Syndra Lynn,
In two thousand ten, on July twenty-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who would pass up the chance to ride the wild Syn.

The dress at her waist was a tatter of sky
When the day started out, on her back around noon;
Her consort devouring her sweet honeyed pie,
Both drawn by a randy Full Capricorn Moon.
He licked and he licked and he sucked at her clit
While she twisted both nipples and bit at one tit.
She writhed and she moaned and she begged him for more,
At the back of his neck, her fingernails tore.
When his fingers slipped in, her purrs turned to roars.

His tongue, fat and wet, working furious and soft,
With three fingers shoved deep was what brought her off.
She bucked, her back arched. Her scream started low,
Down deep in her belly, then started to grow.
He fucked and he licked as she writhed through that scream
Till her pussy was plumped and running with cream.
And her second orgasm was straight from a dream;
Laced with hard peaks that hit fast and ran deep
That left Syndra gasping and gripping the sheet.

His cock had grown sleek, it curved throbbing and thick.
At the edge of the bed she flipped with a moan,
Then he slipped into creamed slit, and let out a groan.
He reached into her core and she wailed with delight,
As he filled her completely with strokes long and slick.
She moaned thanks to heaven this man was her own,
That his cock was so perfect and stuffed her so tight.

He filled her and fucked her, first fast and then slow,
Nearing orgasm, refraining, then thrusting anew,
She was right on the edge. What a glorious screw!
When she reached and squeezed balls, he started to go.
“Fuck me harder!” she screamed. “Fuck me harder, God please!”
Then she rode the tide with him and screamed her release.
Sweating and panting they fell cheek to cheek,
All giggles and smiles, too breathless to speak.
He wrapped her up tight in a mind-blowing kiss.
“What a fuck!” they agreed. “It was absolute bliss.”
Surely they wouldn’t need sex for a week.

In truth, her resolve didn’t do quite that well,
Only six hours later, with her lover away
Syndra got out her toys; She decided to play.
She was writing erotica that made desire swell,
To the point where her hunger surprised her indeed,
So she lay back and diddled her clit, smoking weed.
Now, the blue toy is huge but she slid it right in,
Right nipple pinched tight in a wooden clothespin.
She fucked nice and slow and she fucked really well.
For twenty sweet minutes she was under a spell
Of the pot and the toy and her own secret need
Until rolling the crest of her passionate wave
She came thrashing and moaning: What more could she crave?
She thought, “Life should be a series of sweet lazy fucks,
Deep conversations, and Redwoods for walks.”

Now just after midnight, you might not believe it,
They both got an itch and just had to relieve it.
His lips sought her nape, fingers traced her behind
Trailing magic along where his kisses did weave it.
The electric reaction had them quickly entwined.
He tattooed hot kisses down her neck to her breast
Where he lingered sweet moments ere resuming his quest
For the well of ambrosia, her true divine treasure;
Infinite source of orgasmic pleasure.
He kissed down her belly, pressed open her thighs.
She eagerly parted midst whimpers and sighs.
He fucked her with fingers slipped in her slick slit,
Drove her to madness as he sucked her hard clit.
Through her writhing and grinding, his tongue never quit.
Her cries split the night; Moonlight poured through the window.
Then standing, he cast a unicorn shadow.

Neath the warm welcome weight of deep satisfaction
A primal hunger grew and suffused her;
This insatiable appetite somewhat confused her.
When he turned, she caught sight of his splendid erection!
His cock in the moonlight was pulsing and red.
She instantly moved to lick at its head,
But her Magic Man smiled, moved away from the bed,
And lay on the floor in a hot invitation.
Syndra, impatient to mount him and ride,
Slid onto his cock with one nimble stride.
And that first slide inside, Oh! Sweet sin, so delicious.
She shifted and settled till he was all the way in.
As the moon’s aspect strobed Venus, so rode the wild Syn,
Combined animal lust driving thrusts to ambitious.

Some deep mystic hunger was driving her mad.
She needed him deeper so she rode harder still,
Gyrating and thrusting with considerable skill
Under fever she knew no one else ever had.
He was driving back hard, his own passions spurred
As she fucked and she bucked till her vision was blurred.

A wild force moved in Syndra, not exactly herself.
And reality’s boundaries started to melt.
Her senses quite heightened, she’d lost all reserve,
Then a jolt like a lightning bolt ran through her nerves.
She still felt fully Syndra, but something much more.
Syndra Lynn, all bewitched, while writhing and riding,
Was possessed by her Goddess, supreme Aphrodite,
Who rode them both hard for Her pleasure galore.

As each pounding thrust filled her cunt, drew a groan.
The sounds from her throat became feral and low.
His ridges played every erogenous zone
Inside her hot cream as he thrust up to meet her.
She shifted her weight till he slid even deeper,
Then locked hips to his and ground them real slow.
As she started to come, she threw her head back,
Grunting and thrusting; a woman possessed.
In the mirror rode Syndra, a wild maniac.
Orgasm still crashing, she rode its wild crest.

With the vigor of a man two decades younger,
Drawn by Syndra’s excitement and Goddess-blessed hunger,
He came screaming her name; the fourth time in two days.
He thrust with a grunt as Syn moved in wild ways,
Hips dancing, and grinding and gyrating wild,
With the drive of a Goddess whose passions were riled.
Enchanted by magic and thrilled by the ride,
Syndra’s enthusiasm would not subside.

She rocked in slow, sealing the distance between them.
Then a microinch at a time found her religion,
Swiveled her hips; took him in just a smidgen.
The words from her lips were completely obscene then!
As she cried out her pleasure just before one o’clock,
Her grip milked the last bit of juice from his cock.
The spasms died slowly, they trembled and shook.
Magic Man gave her an incredulous look.
Then lay shaking his head with a Cheshire Cat grin.
She kissed him, giggled, and rolled off askew,
Lying spent in the moonlight he said, “Holy Fuck Syn,
Mr. Toad’s ride has got nothing on you!”