- Erotic Poetry
- Why can't I stop?
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In the echoes of my mind, I ponder so much,
Why can't I halt this habit's clutch?
Each day after school or work, I confess,
Disrobing myself, it becomes a daily process.
My fingers trace circles upon my desire,
As wetness spreads, ignited like a fire.
Slowly slipping into this comforting bliss,
Why can't I resist this arousing abyss?
Why can't I stop the thoughts of my act,
Rubbing my fingers gently, a tempting pact?
The wetness spreading, all around in a dance,
Oh, how I crave this lovely wave of trance.
Why do my fingers yearn for that special part,
Around my clit, dancing, a rhythmic art?
Why can't I resist this pleasure profound,
As my body revels, in passion it is bound?
I ask this question, against reason's tide,
As the intensity grows, I can no longer hide.
My fingers whisper, a tempting symphony,
I surrender, giving in to ecstasy.
In each moment, my thoughts melt away,
Expertly, my fingers guide me to play.
I answer the question, without any doubt,
My desire controls me, there's no way out.
Bound to my cravings, my body's domain,
With pleasure's shockwave, I begin my reign.
Each time, succumbing to this tempting call,
Embracing the edging, experiencing its thrall.
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