Sunday, February 11, 2024

Life’s curves are a woman’s curves , the first invisible largely, the second unmistakable, both with their own delight

My rewards? My offerings? Close by, oft in the distance?

Am I more or less aware, have I ever cared or been so

Caught up, so mired, so thrown off my balance to those

Curves a toy, a thing to with trifle, or not !? A tango a

Tangle , fangs flared, fandango!? So easy just to eat a

Fresh mango, like eating pussy that juicy bite of my

Teeth into that gooey sticky  sweet orange saturation

Of sugars and fruit delights that mat get caught up in

My rapture, such a personal capture of all my forces 




Life’s curves reduced to those juicy thighs that unruly

Wild mop of unshaved hair run wild , let loose, like

That mango it rewards its savory silky sweaty sweet

Juices, a thigh’s rewards caught up in its grip, in that

Warmth and flesh trap with only one way to go to pay

My homage my tongue to thus that it my gift so probe!

Her, her hind her breasts, too bared pointed nips nostrils

Enlarged to almost grotesque proportions, intake of air

Caution gone to ‘ without a care ‘, no time to spare!

Devore me my flower my will my resistance so faint

I am all in, here, now, so wow so pow so ow ow ow!




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