The secret world of smooth warm flesh your graceful curves delight my eye they call my fingertips to explore them such a wondrous geography, paradise I ache to be your favorite native son, born to love each rise, and silken valley, humbly bow my head to drink so deep from your wellspring of sweet desire I long to quench my lusty thirst in you parched, like a desert nomad's throat dream of the day when you float above find sweet release, like clouds and rain your hands reach out, to take my face and pull me to your waiting breasts to suckle you long as a greedy child lulled by the music, of your hot breath your fingers plow furrows in my hair and trace my brow, fever flushed softly croon song of love to me need binds me tight to your side do you feel me throb so deep inside? a counterpoint to your rolling motion? my growling voice echoes in the room your name kisses my lips and tongue trembling thighs, so graceful spread heaven's gate open so wide to see to plumb the hot and fragrant depths as you moan and deeply caress me
W. I. Boucher January 26, 2000