Collarbone


Your smile is intoxicating,
Genuine curiosity curled up in pleasure,
I get lost in your dark chestnut eyes,
As you scan my body, tracing my curves,
Plotting all the things you want to do to me,

You are insatiable yet disciplined,
Waiting for my permission,
Waiting for my invitation,
Waiting for my lips to part,
And my breath to catch
As your lips entangle in mind,

Eyes closed, your tongue slips inside my mouth massaging mine,
Your hands pull me in close by the small of my back until our hip touch, pressing,
Digging deeper inside,
I start to feel your penis pulsate,

Your hand rounds my ass, squeezing it,
Pulling me further onto your erect penis,
Your lips part mine, only to find their way Down my neck, sucking on my collarbone,

Your hands slide up to my breasts,
My nipples hardening at your sensual touch,
I groan in ecstasy as you leave me breathless,
Leaving a small bruise on my collarbone
Something to remember of our time together,
Something to finger late at night when I’m alone missing you,
And my hands wander finishing what we started

~ By Hyacinth Hale

Your Touch

Photo by Valentin Antonucci on Pexels.com
I crave your touch even when you are not around,

Your strength, your security, your warmth at night,
The teasing tandem of gentle roughness
As you vacillate back and forth, pushing and pulling,
Swaying my body to the primal rhythm of attraction,
Feeling for anything plump and pleasing to hold onto,

When you are away from me,
I want to feel your finger pads
Brush against my skin one more time,
You give me goose pimples on my flesh,
Each touch a delightful surprise,
Each second you stare at me waiting is torturous anticipation
Of the velvety softness that are your lips,
Wondering what body part they will kiss next,

I daydream of your touch in the silliest of places,
At work, as I’m doing dishes, in the grocery line,
Staring out a window, anywhere banal and lonely,
But the thought of your touch excites me, unnerves me,
Makes me flush pink, and curl my toes in my shoes,

I think of how your fingers trace the outline of my face,
And how they stimulate my nipples,
And dig into my waist as you pull me in close,
Thrusting your hips onto mine, thrusting deep inside me, slow and angled,
Letting your fingers take a stroll in my secret garden
As they twirl around with childlike enthusiasm,
Letting the intensity build, until there is no choice, it is too intense,
And you have to come to my rescue,

I want to feel your naked body pressed against mine,
Spooning me, caressing my curves with your muscles,
I want to feel your belly rise, and your belly fall,
To know you are near, to be so intertwined,
To not know where you start and I begin,
To feel something else of yours rise, and for my mouth to fall open,
First, in surprise and then, to move into position,
To show you just how special your touch is to me,

I am lost in your touch, and I am found in your touch,
You will never know what a reassuring squeeze means to me,
To be held in your arms, to nuzzle into your neck,
To know that you will hold me together
When everything else falls apart,
I only hope my touch does the same


~ By Hyacinth Hale