" a man in my bed "
c.2001, Miriam M. Wynnbeautiful, a man, in bed,
the back of his arm thrown across his face,
his breathing stilted, his body tense,
melting all beneath you in helpless grace;that flesh, sweet,
a field of cream and butter, caramel,
skin like a baby’s, soft and pliant,
plush and silken, warm and lush,
sprinkled with a dew of hair,
to tickle my skin, and arouse my lust;his hair askew, locks here and there,
his cheeks flushed, his desire fills the air,
and his sweat, oh an unbelievably delicious nectar,
his moans like waves, like shuddering strokes;and
beneath me you are tender, begging,
beneath me you don’t know who you are;
beneath me all you want is heaven,
and for it you’ll travel hard, and far;my tongue on your sweet and secret spaces,
my saliva wet, and dripping round and through;
I love to flicker inside your every cave,
the firelight to make you burn alive;beautiful, your body, before me, inside me,
and when you grimace, beg, and mutter,
when you whimper, and sigh for more,
when you tell me fuck yes, I goddamn like it,
I’m willing to do anything to make you roar;what I love to hear is how it feels so very good,
what I love to do is torture you into tears;
what I need is your helpless, shaking need,
your hips slowly thrusting into my heat;I want you losing control beneath my touch,
to work it with just a little bit of rough,
to have you come so close to heaven,
and pull you back, until you’ve had enough;and this is what my body aches for,
this is what my skin breathes for:
beautiful, a man, in my bed.