Tell me something...

Do I like that?

What do I say?

I can't say anything.
I can't remember how to breathe.
My stomach is paroxysmic,
my thighs are shaking,
my hands are grabbing for something but they can't figure out…

What?

Oh yes - the angel, smiling at me from between my thighs.

She’s got that “cat that ate the cream” grin.
She's earned it,
as evidenced by the shine on her nose,
chin,
cheeks.

I have to wipe her face.

I reach for her,
pulling away the artist from the masterpiece
that is a peach dripping with honey.
Softened and awakened.

Her breath is my scent,
and I like the way I taste coming off her tongue.

My hands remember,
there’s orchards to tend
and find
the crease
low
above me
calling out for
my fingers.

Home is where the heart is
and I can feel her pulse
from
within
echoing
on velvet walls
caressing back against
fingers longingly stroking for ardor.

She mews into my mouth when my thumb rubs her clit.
My core responds like a mother’s breast to a babe.
Pearl,
after
pearl
on linen.

I, lost in the rapture.
Caught
unaware
when hands found me
and notes
escaped.

Long tones,
vibrato,
poured down her throat.

Soon, duet.

Her solo is coming.

She breaks as i slip two more in and covering her wholely as I conduct her aria.

Last two notes were “Fu-uck”

As she collapses
and rolls away
from my gloved hand
I
ask
“Did you like that?”