Erotic Prize

I’d love to whisper with soft strokes

your lips on my ears telling me

exactly what you want to tame

heated madness of smoky languid look

but my husband just came home

so I must fantasize your slippery fingers

tongue moving, silently stirring

supple whimpers of wetness

creamy bliss of wanderlust pleasures

melting into your nirvana skin, arching

and flipping like morning pancakes

exploring our globes in wanderlust

milky strokes in desire’s valley

climbing to grasp erotic prize.