tagErotic PoetryI Got Off

I Got Off


I touched myself.
I took my time.
I pulled, I prodded.
I teased, I tormented.

With one finger, I tease it awake.
How it feels, as it stretches
The heat of it, the tingling.
With every whisper, every touch
It trembles, pulses with desire.

My fingers dancing
Around my thighs,
teasing, encircling.
I need to be tasted,
to be felt.

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byguy_erotique© 1 comments/ 866 views/ 0 favorites

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