I GOT INTO THE BED WITH HER

(Not autobiographical.)

I got into the bed with her,
And passion’s flames began to stir,
Until she could not help but need
Myself inside, bringing my seed.
I kissed her lips, neck and her breasts
(which I jokingly called “head rests”).
I showed her that I was able
To spread that fire south of her navel.
On my shoulders I felt her grip
When I reached her clitoral tip.

With her hips she held my head tight
As my tongue and lips brought delight.
With her juices she wet my face,
Now rubbing in her secret place.
Into the night her fair voice cried
Out that she wanted me inside,
And pulled the hair upon my head
To lift my face to hers instead.
We embraced with passion’s strength
As she took in my sturdy length.

I swore we could be heard in town
As we thrust our loins up and down
And her nails dug into my spine
As came that moment most divine,
Our minds transported far away
From where we Biblically lay,
To passionate insanity,
With some let-slip profanity,
Then making a gentle descent
When seed and passion had been spent.