Night of Passion

My lover lies sprawled out
on my bed, tangled in a
random assortment of
bed sheets and my legs.

I beckon him closer, our lips
touching, first lightly,
then smashing together urgently
as we roll over, leaving
the bedsheets behind.

His weight now atop me,
My Love grinds his body against
mine, his chest crushing my
breasts, his tongue crashing
through my gasping lips.

Of course, impossible to ignore,
his huge phallus, made thick
and hard by our foreplay,
presses itself insistingly
against the satiny folds of
my silky panties.

I slide the flimsy silk barrier
aside, and allow him to enter.
My Love pushes himself into
my snug vagina, his grunts
of pleasure punctuate the
heated desire of our loins.

As My Love continues to plow me
with his rock-hard penis, my passions
burn intensely, and I throw my
crevice upon him, in the wild
throes of ecstacy.

As his own climax crescendos,
My Love slams his hips into mine,
his white-hot cream splashes
into my heaving crotch.

Our lusts satisfied for the moment,
My Love falls against me, our
sweaty bodies still merged, his
softening phallus still lodged in
my cum-soaked clam.

He falls asleep as I lay basking
in the warmth of the liquid
love received between my legs.

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