Man 52yrs


in your bathroom, revealed like a promise as mist clears on the mirror

you touch your shoulder


my lips swell, rivers inside me pulse

I land where your finger touches, your deltoid round and firm at my mouth

the first sweet fruit of you

I inhale, trace a line shoulder to clavicle, my fingers lightly brush across your hips, up your spine

you slowly turn your head, the arc of your neck, a miracle before me

I ripen

my hardness softly glides along your leg, my hand cups a breast

we inhale in unison, possibility fills lungs like steam

I watch a line of sweat descend between your breasts and belly
towards the heat between your thighs

my tongue follows, drinking in your salt as I sink downwards

to your hip, my teeth clip its peak and then thread down to the hairline of your pubis

we both moan as the heat rises

you lift a leg over my shoulder and I paint a slow line between your thigh and pussy with my tongue

at the mouth of your heat, my tongue softly brushes your outer labia, swirls gently up peachy folds then slips


across to your other thigh line, paints down again until I find your perineum and flit, achingly up to where your softnesses tie together

I tickle the mouth of your fruit with my tongue, kiss, suck and slide amongst your sweet persimmon flesh

I move upwards, reading your hips, tasting your waters, reaching your pearl, swirling so gently I barely touch you

around and around with gently increasing pressure

I am rod hard now, aching for you


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