With each thrust

massaging that special spot with each thrust,
much deeper than any man’s ever been,
maintaining that very sensual routine,
withdrawing slowly, thrusting back with lust,
filling me so much, that think that I’ll bust,
pounding rhythmically, just like a machine,
flushed flesh glistening with erotic sheen,
feeling such hardness as orgasm bursts,
flooding my insides with your spurting streams,
as my own hot juices, shower your balls,
your guttural groans, my ecstatic screams,
totally spent, upon me your body falls,
quivering beneath you, from love’s extremes,
lost in afterglow, such loving installs.

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12 thoughts on “With each thrust

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