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Such a tease
Hey! You!
Yeah, you with that
"I've got nearly enough on my plate but I'd like a serving of you
dressed in nothing more than massage oil" look in your eyes.
You know,
I'd just love to kiss you.
I've got this kissing urge
That goes way beyond lips and skin and saliva and tongue.
You know, that sort of kissing urge
That just leads on and on to all senses tingling and screaming
And begging for more.
Yeah, I'd love to kiss you
Full, firmly on the smacker
So that our breath mingles
And the sweet secretions of our mouths open to each other,
Blend and brew.
I'd really like to kiss you - can you tell?
And then,
My hands, as the servants of an exploratory mind
Would search your face, your head.
Please excuse my hands
They just want to touch and feel
Your neck,
That smooth highway from your mind
To your physique
I would suckle and lick to find
Your pulse.
Your lifeblood.
I'd like to take the lobe of your ear between my teeth
And tease your aural sensibilities
With the ramblings of my tongue.
I'd like to look deep down into your eyes
And open up your soul to searing scrutiny.
I'd wrap my aura around yours
To form psychadelia.
I'd like to wrap my arms around your shoulders
And hold your body from clavicle to hip tightly
Against the corresponding parts of me.
I'd like to feel the pressure of your stomach, breasts and thighs
As they fill and flow beneath their smooth casing.
I'd like to watch them,
Make them pumped
And play with them.
I'd like to massage your back
And send morse messages of lust and desire
Through your spinal chord.
I'd follow each rib, each disc
Serving as a sub-station for my dictation.
I'd tattoo these thoughts and dreams through to yours.
I'd like to massage your fantasies into pliancy
And sculpt them into form.
I'd like to wrap your legs around my waist
And plunge into you
I'd like to make you climax so that
Your brain loses all sense of reality, time, rationalism and focus
And swells instead with a mantra that means more.
I'd like to take you on that rollercoaster
Where every loop is the crest of a breaking wave
That spirals down and around and back
Until ups and downs seem no more like directions
But a never-ending montage.
I'd like to meld our bodies into one
Joyous ball of energy
Bouncing on the pleasurable see-saw
Of ecstasy and bliss.
But I won't.
For, I'm not that sort of a guy any more.