Jasmine and Gardenia Love.

‘Come lay beside me my man,’ she said
‘Let me light a fire of love in your breast.
‘Come bathe in my moisture, you know that you can
‘let not your body lay flaccid in rest.’
So she scribed with her tongue on his torso
`till her nipples were budded and tight,
He’s so lovely, aroused, even more so
and when lit by the red firelight.
Could she live, if she never kissed his eyelid?
Sucked the soft, loose flesh through her lips.
Roll her mouth to the tear duct and laughter line grid.
Feel his tensioning heat through her nipples and hips.
As his stiffening flesh sought her contour,
with a will of it’s own it did seek
and it craved its admittance, compelled to explore
and her sex is a power and peak.
So she straddled his body a hand on each shoulder.
Rampant and wanton a little bit bolder
ragged of breath and heady of odour.
Effervescent of spirit like bubbling soda.
Face to face, locked in a gaze he saw
a volcanic fire of passion and he bore.
He thrust with his hips and writhed like a tree,
which is torn in a wind from a tumultuous sea.
It’s time for the dance like a snake in a trance.
For the passion and need of fevered romance.
With pelvic muscle and grip like a python.
To squeeze him and milk him, eruption and siphon.
A motion as fluid as water and oil
As he rides her, and guides her,
and brings her to boil.
She’s calling his name and it’s wicked and wild.
She’s woman and temptress, she’s siren and child
His shaft is sheathed in her sex in her fold
His nails in her buttocks as he bucks and he holds
Her to him.
Her orgasm rises. She arches her back.
He’s deeply within her, she takes up the slack
and quickens the pace as their heartbeats pound
like horses galloping, covering ground.
Feeling the blood as it courses,
and causes,
the orgasm’s force
as it bursts
and it pauses.
Then crescendo.
She’s coming, and makes it quite clear.
Her moisture anoints him, her lover, her dear,
He comes alongside her, ‘Sweet Jesus,’ he’ll say,
A breath, then silence, a moment’s delay
sated and spent she wilts to his chest
tease the hair with her finger, at peace and at rest.
She lies in his arms and he kisses her head,
and the sweat tells its tale in the tousled bed.
She tells the stars and the Moon above
‘We made Jasmine and Gardenia love.’