The Dish

The string from my waist, drifts 

As if  I'm about to get naked

But, as he undresses me

His soft kisses of confront warm my body

His long hands travel up my stomach

and between the valley

Massaging the two

As he gracefully passes along my waist

he takes a smooth dive in

Letting his full lips press on my clitoris

His tongue slides tasting this new flavor

It fills him, but not me

I've never seen him like this before

His eyes are low as if he has been smoking

Something is cooking, and I am hungry 

Now, I want my meal to be served on a long an wide dish

As he fed it to me

I wanted more

I wanted it to be never ending 

Of that same exact dish

I want the servings the same 

Fed to me in just the same portions

As I think Im getting full

I water harder, wanting more 

leaving me wanting me

I love this dish 

Not the chief cooking this 

As I know there is more to fulfill my urge

Was it the beginning of a new addiction

In reality, he goes back to his own home

I lay on my side, damn I want more

But, he has this situation 

Did he make her the same dish 

 

🌷 (1)

Compromise ►

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