The Petal drops
by stein forster
The moment his tongue dropped like a petal it was over.
Her flesh. Her deep spring pulsing with life.
Her hands balanced with gentle firmness. Easing him to the rhythm that was theirs.
Slowly her tide rose, thighs tensed on his jaw. Rough with growth, she moaned at the glory.
His fingers spread with purpose, lips parting to the sun. To such honest warmth. Such wet desire.
His groin, grinding its own groove as he moved to her heart. A beating drum in a jungle now born.
His tongue and lips devouring her lust as her hips rise up.
Her back, arched like a sprung willow.
Her beauty, her face, her grace, born to be her. Eyes glazed with ecstasy, cannot see.
Can only feel the birthing of rivers and torrents –
anchored to her soul.
Her body tort with explosive delight as she clasps firm to release.
An animal now (in all the right ways). Letting loose.
His mouth pours itself into her.
Deeper and deeper his tongue licking her virgin walls.
The rivers collide like a new earth is born.
Her body yells it’s primal glory as she tremors into a new dawn.