The Quickening

    Beads of sweat above the lip and brow
The panting, breathing, gasping for air somehow
The softness in our velvet sweet kiss
The hair pulling passion which drives me to bliss

Do you not know me Mr. Man?
How your passion swells within my hand.
How excessive wetness and roaming thrusts
They take control of your every lust

How all the cries from in the night
They take on meaning of our sweet delight.
With groaning and whimpering cries which grow
Our passion increased a rapid crescendo

My tiny hands they grip, scratch, and pull
A perfect dance with your pounding tool
I thrust and I open for you as I must
The feelings wonderfully satisfying and just

I know you desire this Mr. Man
For the quickening is here and it demands
With the passion increasing higher still
I do believe it's broken our very will

So many nerves are tingling now so close
It builds one more tier to an even higher post
Until the madness has our quickening souls
The orgasm is here and our bodies pose

Tis this very second don't you see
The frozen in time for all eternity
Just before the quietness comes to end
It's called the quickening of our souls my friend.

Then all hell breaks in the silent night
The quickening is over and to our delight
The pose is broken we are alive once more
In our lust of our union, the perfect storm