Larry

O Larry, I would make you moan

On the soft grass under the moon

Like a child enjoying the patting of 

his back from a rhythmic hum

I would bask in your sweat and wetting

Till i shiver from being too hard

Your skin, tasty like sunday stew

I would grab your chest in my hand 

The head of a new born. Fondling it,

You held the key, lubricated the keyhole

Your hips, full as a plateau

As they were in their plateau

expand at the welcoming of my trust

Whose wait was everlasting thus

Patiently your lips will call unto mine

kiss them, your neck, chest, navel

I am drawn to the fountain

Falling hard, the peak of your mountain

Pushing my head down, will sip your wine

Oozing from your vertical lips.

kept wet from hormonal urges

Larry ! O Hillary,

You look into my eyes to betray 

emotions harboured inside you

An anchor deep at bay

Wait, I search for it with my fingers

With one yank in, you moan

parting your legs apart you laid

Bare, the full consequence of what you've done

electricity surges through my body

From nerves auditory and olfactory

trust again and continuously

to give your chests the long awaited dance

by Victor Samuel