Tuesday, June 14, 2005
What blogger am I?
We lay next to each other and the fan is whirling
It’s pace keeps me cool
But I want to turn it off and get hot against your flesh
We lay next to each other and my finger traces your thigh
I sense your awareness of my longing
A slight tension builds inside you about your next move
I can hear your mind bite its lower lip
You tell me I’m randy
You’re right, and I’m vulnerable again
Perhaps you’ll give me your body if only for a minute
“You’ll have to turn off the fan”
I try not to leap toward the control knob
But you already know that I’m desperate
A little lubrication in my hands to prepare your willing but tired body
The scent will stay with me through the night
You move to the center of the bed so my right leg stays on
I position myself above you.
Your knees point to the ceiling and I feel lucky and crazy
This must be my lust
I feel you stifle a small groan when I slide into you
I want you to know that I love you
I want you be my filthy little slut
I stroke evenly and gently, your body sucking me in
The room is dark and your breasts are magnets to my heart
And with only a moment elapsed I feel myself swell
This time is for me so I allow it to happen
And with one fluid motion I prop up and clutch my dick,
The only part of me in existence at this time
I feel the eruption of seed from my shoulders
The room is still dark and your stomach is puddled
You say nothing and I know you accept me
I have soiled my Madonna, which you never wanted to be
I am grateful. You are empathic.
And as I take care to tumble to the side
You stand and walk away unaffected
I know you’ll be back and want me to talk
I know you’ll lay down and expect me to sleep
We talk about things I can’t even remember
And the sex we just shared is a gift you’ll remember giving
I’ll carry your scent and the memory of the silk ribbons you keep inside
The alarm wrenches me from a dream
My blood rushes to my cock
My first thoughts are of coffee, my clothes, your pussy,
And the next time I’ll be allowed to press your wrists to the bed
I’m ready for the day
Who the HELL IS THAT AND WHY HAVEN'T I BEEN READING THEIR BLOG?!
Excuse me while I go shower...
I can't believe how hot and bothered you're all getting over a twenty-thrust quickie that left Nina with a mess to clean up.
I'm not sure what that means, but I think it's a good thing...I think.
Good job on the poem Mike. It's pretty hot.
1) i've met you guys and that would be ummm...weird
2) the soiled madonna line threw me off.
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