I took my place
On top of him
And fed his yearning
Till he was brimming
The rising
Betwixt my legs
Was vying to be relished
So I guided his hand
To my butterfly wings
Slipping my lingerie
He inserted his fingers
In my moist crevice
The squashing of my petals
With the slurping of my honey
Resonated the ambience
He wrote poetry
Without verses
But with sweats of desire.
@LR
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