He opens his door
With, an invitation,
His greeting like a slow seduction,
Making you dizzy, making your heart race
And still with a knowing smile, you step past him towards the bed
You turn. You look at him. Come
You call with a barely whisper that is not your own
One kiss. A little nibble. A spank that makes you shiver
With delight, surrendering to the friend you’ve long desired
Who knows you, who you trust
Completely, as he presses two thumbs into your Venus marks,
Entering you slowly, groaning into your ear.
You rock into his slow and tortuous strokes,
That turn into waves, then a staccato stutter,
So, you think it is over.
Until. He flips you over
And a flower blooms
Like rising heat into his mouth, his tongue
A smooth and delicious treat that knows its way.
You at last descend into your own finale
Feeling every nerve cry out in pleasure,
And then remarkably,
With immense and uncontrollable laughter.
Author: Caroline Kowalski loves Star Wars, dancing to disco, and the taste of lemons in any form. She feels most at home in a new city and can often be found in the corner of a party discussing uncomfortable subjects such as drugs, politics, religion, and sex. Kowalski works as a tech startup geek by day, and plays the role of storyteller by night. Whether essays, erotica, or poetry, her work is always honest, and steeped in sensuality.
