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Erotic Poetry

Warming to your touch

The carpet scratches my nipples, but I don’t mind
when you’re riding my thighs and pushing me down
with your strong weight lifting fingers, with your
arms flexing my breath out through tight resistance.

The living room is cold at night, but your hips warm me
like your friction does, shoving up and down
coaxing moans and groans releasing tension pleasure
with every stroking glide, and hip thrusting ride.

I’ll melt for you any evening that you wish,
on the floor under your touch, between your legs
or in front of you sitting topless while you minister your
motions into me; plied by your back massages.

 

 

**my goal was to talk about his back massages but make it seem like sex. Did it work?**

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