One Time

One time, slipping out
he moved it up and down,
glistening, sliding wetly against her labia,
nudging her lips aside,
slipping slowly up and down their length
until,
   slowly
        with languorous,
              deliberate care,
he swirled his head against her,
he brushed sweet
fire across her clit,
sizzling, tingling, taking
her breath away when it
made its way down again
suddenly to plunge deep
into her flesh.

Drunk on sensation she
sensed his urgency growing,
the thickening of his desire:
the heavenly delicious
shock of his pistoned thighs
that sent it deep, deeper than dreams,
deeper than visions that had
washed over her like
flames on a log, visions that
haunted those hours between
sleep and waking when her
body craved its mate.

Behind closed eyes
their bodies moved,
gleaming gold before
the lambent flame.  Her back
arched away, her finger tips
and toes fell away as warmth
rushed to fill her.  The
heady peril of the cliff,
the fall, the fall, the fall . . . .

Then silence, broken only
by his ragged breath, by his
whispered words.  And beneath
his  warm, safe weight,
within her warm darkness,
he lay soft and still, dripping
even as her body, flushed
and warm, clenched him again.