With a wide smile of innocence
a slow hand down my thigh. He
held me with attentive cravings,
which burns hot with expected desire.
Warm kisses down my neck
sparks passion’s electric pulse
releasing a rush of honeyed streams
which heeds to expectation’s true need.
Undressing in quick increments
fingers exploring, rich velvety core
causes feelings of quixotic yearning
This hankering body
Tasting, soft wet creases
Embryonic hope rises, soars
In slow sculpturing of womanly curves
My imagined revealed?
thicken harden, steel
Granite moves within
banks of the river folds
Yet, no tickle
of orgasm evolving
Thunderous rain, cum
But no earth quaking?
Just granite falling
Just what did I expect?
“Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.”
― Alexander Pope