It doesn't have to be about love,
I discovered one afternoon.
The man was a stranger,
a no one, in my little world;
until our eyes met in sheer
happenstance that ripened
into something more.
No, not love. Nothing quite so
endearing. It was lust, pure and simple;
or perhaps, not quite so simple,
and never pure. There was interest,
a smidge of acknowledged chemistry,
and then a light of understanding
that erupted in me: I wanted him.
Never before was there such a craving
that seared into my soul, and for
this one man, who would pass in
and then out of my life. I suddenly
noticed how his every movement
radiated sex in a language only
my body could understand.
I responded, he responded,
we ended up in my bed. We were
kissing and sucking and touching
everything we could. My body was
a fire of hot passionate flame, and he
stroked me, suckled me, devoured me
till I blazed in wanton delight.
Touching his body until he cried
out for more, and I was a goddess
he summoned with his moans.
I gloried in him: his length, his
hardness, his dark musky scent;
and he exploded as I took him
into the fires that burned within.
As we simmered, we touched
in tender caresses. His hands glided
over my supple body, touching my
satin curves and silky depths. He dipped
down into my moist well with a finger,
and then two; he stroked and fondled
until I cried out, melting again in my fire.
Then I explored his body with only the
heat of my tongue, my mouth, my breath.
Textures delighted me; the soft crinkle of
his dark chest hair; the satin smooth of his
skin that covered his hard desire for me.
With my mouth, I worshiped this desire
faster and faster; him mindless but for me.
Again and again, we took each other
during that lovely, lustful night,
until complete exhaustion abducted
us from our passionate consciousness.
We slept like death had taken us -
heavy, entangled limbs tied us
together as we dreamed of fire.
I awoke to dawn, alone in my bed
but for the humming of my replete body,
and the mysterious dark scent of sex and man.
I thought back on our night: our urgent need to consume.
I smiled, knowing I would eternally remember with a
breathless shiver of delight, that night of passion
and of that man, whose name I never did learn
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Submitted by:
Jessamine
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