With poetry I glide upon your skin
my lazy fingers wander, and burn you within.
Making you wait,
keep things on edge
as your forbidden fruit slowly ripens.
Hands tied, pupils wide,
you open and part your legs
utterly submitting to the desires of thrust.
Kissing southern lips,
a tease of fuzz,
and your nectar drips down the thighs.
My tongue maps and strokes
as it traces the source
and gulps it… all down the throat.
We haven’t finished… we have just begun.








mmmn, tantalising and succulent xx
I’m thirsty. 😉
#Me,Too! (whoops!)
<3 :*
It sounds like an appetizer for sure. Not finished is correct. Nice
Just beginning.