Rapture, Captured

(Mature)

 

Part I: Quality Time

 

A fairytale day, in every way, sun covered in natures glory,

arm in arm, oblivious to harm, discovering our life story.

A pine-needle path with wooded bath, wandering in the park,

picture perfect light, just before night, as it's getting dark.

 

A private bench, the air is drenched with honeysuckle smile,

just you and me, with nowhere to be - this could take awhile.

Silently sitting, meticulously fitting my cheek into your neck,

breath holding wishes, soft eyelash kisses, gentle as a peck.

 

Slowly moving, to the internal tuning, of our own heartbeat,

getting hot from thoughts of getting caught, disregard discreet.

Rushing hands roaming exotic lands, shoes kicked to the side,

curling toes, caressing through clothes, heavenly bodies collide.

 

Butterfly flutter, unintelligible mutter, but knowing what I mean,

melting moans, those animal groans, uncovering your unseen.

Steamy sighs, the parting of thighs, getting closer, feeling good,

eyes closed tight, euphoric delight, body trembling like it should.

 

Release and let go, while basking aglow, smile - but only for me,

and I will for you, bidding a proper adieu, to surrounding reality. Part II: Lure

 

Excitement incites midnight flights, igniting deep desire,

pursuing you through your taboos, addicted to your fire.

I'm ever waiting, anticipating my moment of collapse,

once snug, with your love drug, anyone would relapse.

 

Breathless knocks, twisting locks, smiles most demure,

face to face in rabid embrace, thrust against the door.

Curves carressed in silken dress, elegance encased in lace,

arousing display meets disarray, garments gone to waste.

 

Hips rhythmic sway lures the way into a room of white,

a gentle peck on speckled neck begins the endless night.

Rosy cheeks and soft-tipped peaks under a touch of trust,

beneath sheets, the frame creeks a repeating song of lust.

 

Strong overtones of pheromones unlocked with fleshy key,

a swollen rush, the torrents gush through beckoning valley.

Sultry, steaming, pillow screaming, limits long surpassed,

Part III: Sweet Spots writhing, raving, quenching craving, two as one collapsed.

 

Soaked skin slides sweet as sin, begging for my clutch,

speckled fleck adorned soft neck, tender to my touch.

Looks that sear, nibbles on ears, whispers in the dark,

lightly tease the backs of knees on benches in the park.

 

Playing with hair, skin thats bare, calling out my name,

protective arms, seductive charms, submitting to the game.

Feathered fingers forever linger tracing on your smile,

eyes confirm, that sexy squirm - won't you stay awhile?

 

Fingertips parting luscious lips, sugary fruit to find,

palm flat in the small of your back, perfectly alligned.

Drawing lines of intricate designs, on that beaded back,

quiet quivers with secret shivers, I cunningly attack.

 

Stroking thighs with closed eyes, hands strong as steel,

holding on, somehow til dawn, hardened will revealed.

Give me more, down on the floor, animal lust defined,

stomach knots, your sweet spots, blow my fucking mind. Part IV: Like It Rough

 

Sultry stare hidden behind silky hair, fingers intertwined,

"Never enough, I like it rough" you're so quick to remind.

Grasping grip, I grab and rip, clothes that have confined,

tossed aside, that cloth of pride, something else in mind.

 

Soaked skin slides sweet as sin, just beneath my touch,

speckled fleck adorned soft neck, begging for my clutch.

Mice scatter as ceramic shatters, dishes hit the floor,

arched backs leave sweaty tracks forced against the door.

 

Devils disguise is in my eyes when you're demanding more,

giving in to insatiable sin is impossible to ignore.

Sudden smack starts the attack, mouthfuls of desire,

lungs seething, barely breathing - only when required.

 

Strong hands keep up demands from the writhing waist,

eclipsed sun moves as one, two has been replaced.

What's found, has been around, long as men have chased,

confronting sin, from within, just to get a taste.

 

Forever hold that precious gold, never more aware,

that life is best, one must attest, lost in sultry stare.

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