Till Morning Light We Slept, Poem.

Lay me tenderly upon your bed, a bed made up of silks that hold my weight as if its little more than a feather that drifts through the summer breeze from the aqua skies above, while you embrace me with a gaze of lustful hunger.

Your passionate lips searching as if hunting for every sweet spot upon the curves of my neck with a hunger that builds within your ever increasing desire with your ears waiting to hear my escaped cries of pleasure.

I feel your warm hands across my silk skin caressing my bosom, as my naked flesh at your mercy as your lips continue their desired search, moving slowly from my curved neck down my body.

Your hot breath blowing against my skin, seconds before your lips touch my inner thigh, your fingers tracing their way from my bosom to my calf, gently gripping hold of my legs weight, while your kisses slow and tender, sending my body into a quiver, my gasps of pleasure an insight of my own deepest desire.

But my body is not fully lost to desire yet but I can feel your hand lower my leg softly, as you lean over me, your eyes gazing deeply into my eyes, your hand now gently removing strands of hair from my face before our lips lock once more in hungered hurried lust.

Your hips buckle with raging thrusts, both need and pleasure overwhelming, my body shaking crying out for more, begging and pleading of an intense sensation of pleasure.

My nails clawing at your salty flesh, our lips kissing deeply, then biting any flesh we can find, you hips never stopping, a rhyming song that's slow and steady, then becoming fast and harder, trying to reach our deepest itching need.

My body arching back throwing myself against the bed once more, my hips rolling upward meet your own hips, my legs still locked around you, with your soft words of passion whispered into my eyes.

Becoming a drunken hazed state that I willingly obey to as my hands gripping whatever they can, whether the flesh of your muscular tone in its Hollywood glow or the sheets of silk that are slipping and rippling from the corners of the bed beneath us.

A climax so intense that neither of us expect to cry out together, shaking from pleasure being tenderly cradled by you, as if trying to comfort my quivering body, yet our hungers only just begun and its clear your not fully spent, take me once again and pin me against the icy mirror as we tried to escape out own lust to bath, or place me on top dressing table or the rugged floor before the glowing ambers of the fire, let me wrap my legs around your waist once more, let's never stop till morning light, and even then no doubt at all, our hunger wont be filled.