You, prone and quiet

Beyond the darkness
just before dawn,
you, prone and quiet,
protruded imposingly
from the sheet
the trunk of your back,
showing a little the buttock.
I put of my fingers
the annular on that mighty mass,
felt a tremor on the backbone,
and your presence
replacing the numbness
of your sleeping body,
animating your warm living flesh
under my fingers.

I slipped my hand
on your impetuous granite.
You abducted the leg,
you took off the sheets,
arrows your eyes
headed to me and me alone.
You were panting,
and so sweet was the fatigue of desire
that I decided to reward your craving,
I lowered my face between the thighs
holding out my greedy lips.

Taken aback,
I was ousted from my noble office
to find you greedy and mighty
standing on me,
rising like the sun,
and your rays lit my naked longing.
You cling to the ankle,
diving into my dunes
irresistible,
and the impetuous climb upon my body
took my breath away.
Without brakes
your lips
were now on the pubis
and now close to the two arisen peaks,
I scratched your back,
and in the grip of my knees
I welcomed you
between my wet loops.

Picture by Dmitry Laudin