"Tease"
She twists.
And twirls.
And flaunts.
And taunts me.
Ever so vaunting in her movement.
There's little need for improvement.
Nothing is dubious or hesitated.
Every move seems premeditated.
She's quite skillful in nature;
As organized as nomenclature
But still reckless and frantic;
Moving free willed and sporadic.
She's confusing in design;
Leaving no traces to find
Yet her motives are defined.
Her plot is obviously outlined.
So she jumps.
And humps.
And thrusts.
And vibrates.
So enthralling when she gyrates.
I love the way those thighs shake.
So very inviting.
Nothing short of exciting
Can accurately serve description
To something so enticing.
Her glare houses the prediction
That I'm ready to do some biting.
I've lost the will towards contradiction.
It's too late to start fighting.
My stare gave the prescription
That her performance is already writing.
Yet she'll still kick.
And bend.
And extend.
And continue.
She binds me like sinew.
If only other men knew...
They'd briskly search their menu;
But only I can get through.
This isn't all inclusive.
That wouldn't be conducive.
This is very exclusive.
Her means are now conclusive.
I envy the chair that she rides
As if it cared to steal my pride.
Sweat leaves her hair with each stride
As she glides from side to side.
Now she smiles.
And provokes.
And disrobes
And reveals.
Such raw, untampered appeal.
So organic and real.
My words were her's to steal.
All I wanted to do was feel.
I wanted her as my meal:
I would consume her whole;
Devouring all of her pink flesh
So that I could taste her soul.
I've obviously lost control.
I'm compelled and confound
By someone so daring and bold.
It never felt this good to be bound.
Then she totes.
And she pokes.
And she prods.
I can only nod.
Her next act is very profound;
Nothing submissive or meek.
She won't even quell the sounds
As she toys with what I seek.
She grazes it slightly
As if to invite me
And then she politely
Spreads and positions herself.
She doesn't need help
But still calls out my name
As she pleasures herself
Until she becomes tame.
Her body quakes.
Her limbs shake.
And pulsate.
And contort.
She achieved what she purports.
This was far more than sport.
This wasn't a form of recreation.
It was sort of like inebriation:
Her gyrations served as libation.
I developed a keen fixation
With each intense vibration.
Nothing compares to this sensation.
It was far beyond description.
I gave yield to full subscription;
Needing her like an addiction.
Gleefully trapped in lustful affliction.
Watching her twist.
And twirl.
And shake.
And flow.
And get low
Only to rise up slow
As she captivates
Whilst I profusely salivate
As she conducts and orchestrates
With no lapse or break in time.
I love how she aims to satiate
While placing me in her paradigm.
I'm so damn close;
But I can't touch.
I've been immensely provoked;
But I can't rush.
The pathway is paved;
But I can't steer.
She's so far away
Although she seems near.
This is hardly fair.
In fact, it's quite mean
To have my progress impaired
By a computer screen.
I know she aims to please;
But I surely won't rest with ease.
All that occupies my mind
Are images of my little tease.
She twists.
And twirls.
And flaunts.
And taunts me.
Ever so vaunting in her movement.
There's little need for improvement.
Nothing is dubious or hesitated.
Every move seems premeditated.
She's quite skillful in nature;
As organized as nomenclature
But still reckless and frantic;
Moving free willed and sporadic.
She's confusing in design;
Leaving no traces to find
Yet her motives are defined.
Her plot is obviously outlined.
So she jumps.
And humps.
And thrusts.
And vibrates.
So enthralling when she gyrates.
I love the way those thighs shake.
So very inviting.
Nothing short of exciting
Can accurately serve description
To something so enticing.
Her glare houses the prediction
That I'm ready to do some biting.
I've lost the will towards contradiction.
It's too late to start fighting.
My stare gave the prescription
That her performance is already writing.
Yet she'll still kick.
And bend.
And extend.
And continue.
She binds me like sinew.
If only other men knew...
They'd briskly search their menu;
But only I can get through.
This isn't all inclusive.
That wouldn't be conducive.
This is very exclusive.
Her means are now conclusive.
I envy the chair that she rides
As if it cared to steal my pride.
Sweat leaves her hair with each stride
As she glides from side to side.
Now she smiles.
And provokes.
And disrobes
And reveals.
Such raw, untampered appeal.
So organic and real.
My words were her's to steal.
All I wanted to do was feel.
I wanted her as my meal:
I would consume her whole;
Devouring all of her pink flesh
So that I could taste her soul.
I've obviously lost control.
I'm compelled and confound
By someone so daring and bold.
It never felt this good to be bound.
Then she totes.
And she pokes.
And she prods.
I can only nod.
Her next act is very profound;
Nothing submissive or meek.
She won't even quell the sounds
As she toys with what I seek.
She grazes it slightly
As if to invite me
And then she politely
Spreads and positions herself.
She doesn't need help
But still calls out my name
As she pleasures herself
Until she becomes tame.
Her body quakes.
Her limbs shake.
And pulsate.
And contort.
She achieved what she purports.
This was far more than sport.
This wasn't a form of recreation.
It was sort of like inebriation:
Her gyrations served as libation.
I developed a keen fixation
With each intense vibration.
Nothing compares to this sensation.
It was far beyond description.
I gave yield to full subscription;
Needing her like an addiction.
Gleefully trapped in lustful affliction.
Watching her twist.
And twirl.
And shake.
And flow.
And get low
Only to rise up slow
As she captivates
Whilst I profusely salivate
As she conducts and orchestrates
With no lapse or break in time.
I love how she aims to satiate
While placing me in her paradigm.
I'm so damn close;
But I can't touch.
I've been immensely provoked;
But I can't rush.
The pathway is paved;
But I can't steer.
She's so far away
Although she seems near.
This is hardly fair.
In fact, it's quite mean
To have my progress impaired
By a computer screen.
I know she aims to please;
But I surely won't rest with ease.
All that occupies my mind
Are images of my little tease.
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
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