Experience,  Poetry


He sits back and surveys me from behind:
ass high in the air as has been requested,
face buried in the crumpled pillow,
breasts pressed into the mattress,
stomach lying in the mess I have made,
enduring his inspection.
The wet spot is cold beneath me
and sticking to my flesh.
He takes his time tracing my folds,
flicks my clit, and slides his fingers in,
using my own cum to prepare me.
He pushes into me, bending my back,
and touching a place inside me
only he can reach…the place that releases
everything within, leaving a damp
reminder of his power.

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