Breaths combined, eyes locked, allured,
Inches far apart,
Rising tide of wanting,
Neither one may start.
Passion builds with waiting
And heated hands do twitch
Reach out to touch, envelop,
Take fever to its pitch.
The look now broken by a thought,
A glance away to press the urge.
Look once more into the soul,
Feel the aching surge.
Now lean to kiss, the slightest touch,
With promises of more.
A tantalising taste of honey,
Shivers to the core.
And all at once, the dam has burst,
And hunger’s needs are met,
Falling to the rising tide
And drenched in wettest sweat.
Assuaged, the delight, the fascination
Ought to be abated,
But longing looks and lustful thoughts know much more
Will come. But that has been X-rated.
scottishmomus 