I scribbled this masturbatory poem almost 2 years ago and nearly forgot about it. I doctored it a bit as time away from one’s own written word demands revision. I am sure I could have been figurative in my approach… but I am not feeling particularly subtle or figurative today.
Without further ado….
The bed below my ass gives every time I roll my hips down into it.
My glistening nodule, buried beneath fluttering folds of juicy wet flesh, tingles with every thrust upward.
My fingers quiver with want as they claw my inner thighs, leaving wanton red scrapes, almost breaking the skin.
My index and middle fingers form an inverted ‘V’ over my vulva, pinching and releasing my outer lips until my clitoris swells and hardens.
Fingers circling that sweet pearl of ecstacy like bees around the honey pot.
It will only take minutes at this point until I wholly unravel, burst into flames and leave this confining dimension for a few fleeting moments of breathless eternity.