Yearning:

Twelve to midnight
She knocks at my door
Whiskey to hand
I greet her
Pure hedone
Dressed to kill
Legs eleven
All woman
Statuesque
A glorious sight to see
My eyes wide open
Thigh high boots
The embodiment
Of an hourglass
Her skirt, no more than a belt
Hair flowing
As if ocean waves
Fit as a fiddle
And bold as brass
Her hand on my chest
She impels her way in
Sexy as fuck
Acceptance
I know what’s next
Sex is a given
Dreams
They very much
Do come true
I acquiesce
Of my own free will
The bedroom
Her only goal
No stopping her
No small talk
And no nickers for sure
She is already wet
A naked rodeo
Her firm intent
Take me now
My only thought
How to preclude
Clothes strewn to the floor
I’m thrown to the bed
As she climbs on the top
Her honey pot
Straight in my face
The sacred cave
Dripping with juice
A Heavenly cocktail
My cockerel
In full morning glory mood
She is shifting locations
Her Yoni now
Yearning for action

©the Luv Sexy Poet™🥂

Original words & thoughts penned of heart & imagination of:
©Warren Mace, A.k.a ©the Luv Sexy Poet™🥂

Art courtesy of: @pinterest

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