penetration fascinationthe tip spears burning, the promise of the void being filled,
c.2001, Miriam M. Wynn
my mind flashes images, when aroused:
of the sword sliding home into its scabbard;
female or male, my body seeks penetration;
to fill, to violate, to pound into with tongue, fingers,
cock, fruit, dildos, toys, fists, anything filling at hand;
the gaping female sex, wet, dripping,
begs for answers, begs for completion,
the infamous vaginal ache a greedy roar for satisfaction;
hunger, starvation, the unfurling she-petals are forever lacking,
forever seeking fulfilment, licking internal lips to ease the way.
I dream that I must have been a man and eased a thousand women’s cravings,
teased their sucking lips with a bulbous tip to make them mad;
I imagine that those agile hips worked and squirmed and writhed for me,
that with my cruel peg to their hole I reigned supreme with masculinity;
and in my many fantasies I like to see a woman gape wide and prove her hunt for me,
to see her drip and stretch and open wide;
to see her clit swell fat and rich and velvety,
to watch how she grips with pretty nails her own sweet hide;
I like to imagine her legs splayed unto the heavens,
the female limbs thrust back, the mouth cavernous;
and undaunted I presume to prove to her that I shall fill it like no other,
watching inch for inch as my phallic weapon impales her;
this, the fascination for filling, for stretching, for overwhelming,
for watching a female lose her mind on the receiving end;
the anticipation of completion, one within one, ying with yang,
from sex to mouth, male to female, male to male, female to female,
a penetration fascination old as time and unknown to none.