Photo by Dainis Graveris on Unsplash

The Morning Rising

I sense her arousal coming to
I smell the musk, the light morning taste
We’re stuck close together spooning
As my lingam rises between the valley
She sighs and opens just enough, swooning
Leans her head back and turns
The good morning kiss
One hand on her breasts
She raises her leg slightly and reaches below
Moistens herself; this is bliss
First the head touches only her lips
Still half awake, half in slumber
I pick up the rhythm so slow
As her wetness grows and flows
I enter, thrusting further
This natural satisfaction
Slowly, instinctive, motion
Until awakened, both rise to the occasion
Rising and turning on all fours yearning
More speed, more pumping
Crescendos building
I count each of the thrusting
As I carry on pounding
Stop to catch my breathing
When she releases, turns, and forces
Me down supine
And climbs on board, “Now you’re mine”
As she rides to completion
Those mutual oozing exudations
“I won this time,” she laughs in exaltation
While I’m twitching, exhausted,
In exhilaration