:: Boy In Corner ::

:: Sunday, May 11, 2003 ::

My Sex Poem

I taste your sweet candy lips,
And then I slide into you.

You are so warm as I fill you up, our bodies writhing together,
Twisting, turning, moaning, groaning, two threads of rope twirling into one.
The motions of our hips sing sweet pleasure in the cool night air,
The moon the only voyeur to our exhibitionary dance.
The rustle of grass beneath the blanket matters not, as all I can hear is your breath hot in my ear,
We hold each other, arms tangled in this sea of flesh,
Every breath a gasp, a cry for more, a plea for me
To keep going. To keep thrusting and pushing, in and out, in and out,
You moan as I gyrate, nearly slipping out
Of your warmth.
Your tongue exploring with mine,
Naked bodies rocking in time, our bodies moving with a meter and rhyme.

And inside it builds, sweet ecstasty fills my mind.
And I try to think of other things to divert the heavely torture,
Because you aren' t ready to come.
So I lose myself and keep pumping, as blood rushes to my head,
You start to moan faster, my face is shifting to red
And white, as I lose control.
And I lose the fight.

My muscles contract and I grip the blanket so tight
In the darkness my knuckles shine white,
As I explode within you,
Everything lost within you,
But I still try to push on, pumping in time, not willing to give up this time,
And we win.

A few more minutes fly by, each second sapping my strength,
Ripples of pleasure coercing me to bask in my own afterglow, but I will not.
I push on, continuing to fill you with me, your climax the peak that I've sought.
And with my last fleeting strength, you twist and you cry and I watch you smile and sigh
And you wipe away the sweat collecting on my brow.

I grow soft within your moist warmth, and our lips dance once again,
My hand caressing your skin, lightly draping itself over your moist flesh.
As you glide your soft fingers down my sweat-ridden face you softly call my name,
And then I wake up just the same as I was before the dream.
Dry sheets, sweat on my brow, and I sigh.

Pulling the blankets over me, I turn over and fall back to sleep,
Hoping to once again fall into the dream of you,
Where we meet when you dream about me too.

:: Rick Kitagawa 9:09 PM [+] ::
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