Mouth of Velvet

My mouth is that of velvet.
It has it's own mind,
it functions according to your demand.

You will take my face
in the largeness of your hands,
slip yourself inside,
the place of my wet tongue.

I hear you sigh.
My lips make love to you,
I work with pleasure, I work for you.
You look down at my kneeling,
my cleavage vulnerable,
like another open mouth.

Taking yourself out,
you ache and moan
by way of your hand,
and rope after rope
lands on my skin.

The pearl drops
running along the crease,
the stiffness of the ruby nipple,
down my navel,
to a tighter crease, still.

A warm place I can offer you,
a haven for your own.
A place to use.
And use me rougher, still,
in my second mouth of velvet.