Sunday, 14 September 2014

The Pouting Lips

He kissed and kissed
Until kissing became a torture
I struggled to escape
But the intensity kept me dazed
With heart beats resounding
With every pore desiring
We stood there

Sealing my pout in his
He sought me
Delving depths…
Ravishing my essence
Kneading my breasts
He glided down to suck their richness
I gasped at the ferocity
Yet delightfully wet
Between my legs

He lead me…
And I followed blindly
In his alley

The pouting lips waits
To be bee stung
Once again
With your gluttony.

©LR



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