It starts
At your

Bristling with
At my beckoning

Still I feel
With my zeal
Your thin shirt

Is what I call it
Is its real name

For me to you
The things I do
Lowering further
Giving you a clue

As to what’s next
As I lean you back
My pulse is going crazy
Unrelenting cardiac

Beats with my treatments
Of your brilliant body
Caressing, compressing
Muscles, it’s a hobby

Kissing your neck
And onto your breasts
Distracting your mind
From the coming rest

Lifting your shirt quietly
My hands under politely
Pressing all your buttons
Until all of a sudden

Your scent sparks in me
A sense to see
Your body in its purest form
Inciting me to swarm

A torrent of cloth
Tornado of hands
Anything I want to touch
I will, and I can

As I taste
And examine with my tongue
Every inch of your skin
You have me at your whim

Over any strap
I will go under
Fingertips feeling
All that I can

Around your arms
Holding your hands
To return for a kiss
Spreading your wingspan

Wrists held against
The headboard
Striking in you
A hungry chord

I might respect retaliation
A peck on my neck for every lip trek
It will be repaid twofold, my love
And my vengance will be lush

Maybe underneath
Your waistband
I can lower and move
My hands to

After they reach below
Where there is within
An intimately precious
Venusian lotus

I want to hear you breathe with me
Want to hear you exhale
As I tickle your fancies
And cast aside your veils

Underneath the intimate articles
Exposing your sensitive trails
I will wander this new land
Like not even you can

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