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The Stories have the Same Plot
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The Stories have the Same Plot The Stories have the Same Plot I touch my breast, Your name rises to my lips. I see a women waiting for a bus, and hear her singing outloud. I roll down the window, ask her, “Sing all the time?” Yes, she says, and smiles. I offer, “Me too !” and smile. “Some people say, ‘You must be happy!’ Sometimes you sing to make youself happy !” We both laughed. The stories have the same plot. 12/14/96  |
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2/7/2006 9:59 pm |
I touch your breasts, I fondle and kiss. I take one in hand, the other in my lips. My heart is beating, your mind is swirling. You reach for my groin, as your hand encloses. My pleasure in mounting, your touch is sublime. I continue to master the wonder of your breast. I move up for a kiss, you lower and we meet. Our lips are as one, soon our bodies will follow. You lay back, your look says yes. I feel for your wetness, you push on my hand. My fingers explore, our lips meet again. The depths are sweet, soon we will meet. I position myself, to enter your nest. The warmth and the softness are beyond belief. The tempo rises, I feel you reaching your first. Over the top, we continue the heat. Slowing only to savor the moment. Never a stop, we force the release to linger. The slowness, the softness, the breathing starts to quicken. The tell tale sign, another pinnacle to reach. How I love this woman, she gives me so much. Your needs will be filled, my rewards will be vast. Another and another, now my time is near. The world has stopped, I feel the rush. Wrapping arms and legs, she will take my all. The rhythm has slowed, the kisses are nice. We continue to move, our bodies still weak. We kiss, we hold, our love is complete. How I love this woman, she gives me so much.
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