Gabagool

So fresh in the evening reaching the night to the fire, lips burning smacked with the raging desire, infectiously touching you inside out running warm and dry, pluck the flesh of yours, cling on and make me cry.

Heavy and hard to push the wind down the chamber, the bellow was moving up and down to run the heat, from the onset to the end, the face turned to amber, got to keep the volume softly tucked under the bedsheet.

Remnants of the thrusts trickling down the spine, the ever so flowing bodily vapors burnt into spiffs of wine, into the cushions of desire and the great crave for the pains, it’s hard to let go of you bound by the moment and those nasty chains.

Crushed under the bones of your force, grab me by the arms and saddle me like a horse, for the wait is too long to suppress the pressure under my feet, raunching on to the moments the softness could justify the never-ending feast.