He took my hand softly,
whispered something to me,
So raw and instinctive my legs opened for him,
He took my lips,
Pulsing in red heat we hungered for more.
I laid back, to breathe deep,
Hesitated a moment,
Till he touched me again,
Then forgot my name,
And became a vixen, a wanton thing in the wake of his touch,
The feast begun,
And feast we did,
He with beastly intent,
Took all there was, and then some more,
I gave of my depth,
Gave of my self,
And offered… everything else!
The sun rose and fell,
While we remained tangled with each other,
Countless times he died between my thighs
And i upon his.
We left that place to share handshakes,
that bring us near climax till we meet again…
Amarepoeta
Outside my mind 
So real, these poems. But he was so base as to take more than he gave, angst!
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Haha! He wasn’t the one being offered. Thanks for reading.
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