poetry

Most Best Pleasure Ever

 He’s crafty, 

with his shaft, 

you see the way my legs are shaking.

He loved, 

licking me viciously, 

locking me in a hold, 

while rotating, 

until my need was aching.

The most best pleasure ever.                

Teasing my yearns, my desire’s, as they burned away, into compact pieces, 

leaving my limbs, 

vigorously worked, 

weak and totally speechless.

He effortlessly flipped me, 

sipped me, 

pulling me back, 

into his captivity, 

to once again, 

chased me down, 

repeatedly, 

staring sexy, 

biting his lip greedily  

So in tune to my need’s speed, 

ebbs and flows, 

attentively watching, 

the comings and goes, 

hardened his form,

 to a lil slower, 

more powerful and bolder 

 back tasting, 

pacing his spew

back to faster, 

kissing my lips 

as I cried out Maestro

in pleasure! 

Massaging my hips, 

without ever stopping, 

kissing my skin, 

rocking my body, 

putting me in an arousal pin, 

as I simultaneously cried joyously, and grinned

Treasuring and measuring 

my depth’s, reaction to speak, 

my body gave way watching, 

as he peeked .

Thats when my tongue was drenched in French,  

le meilleur plaisir qui soit.

He delve so deliciously deep, 

I was critically aware of his taste, 

as he poured his entire life into me, without a single drop–ever wasting.

Poetry By Tamara Dorsey-Moore Mature Content 18+ Erotic

The Most Best Pleasure Ever

Thinker on the Loose (Reblog)

Copyright (c) 2017 Reserved purposes intended.

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