2The Purest Sin
The cool air passes across hot skin
Whispering, writhering, and wanting within
The slick feel of his sickly kiss
Cold shudders invade, bringing sinful bliss
Tickling, searching fingers brush away the past
Soft lips and tongue pushing inside so fast
Hot ejaculated whimpers from a throat too dry
Steamy hands elict them to a cry
Pushing down on him with playful intentions
Silky tongue grazes mine too fast to mention
Minutes turn to seconds as lights dance on these walls
Breathing gone heavy as up and down we fall
Loud, wild cries of physical passion
Circle the room in rapid fashion
The cool air passes across hot skin
Whispering, writhering, and wanting within.