The magic of reflected love
Infactuated,
Far beyond driven.
Aching with need,
Sexual core riven.
You,
Your body,
Your mind,
Your soul.
Opening me,
Consuming me whole.
Infactuated,
Bewitched, enslaved.
Longing to touch,
Sexual ecstacy craved.
Me,
My body,
My mind
My soul.
Open to your spell,
Wrapped into your fold.
Infatuated,
Your eyes open wide.
Staring,
At what you’d like deep inside.
Your lips,
You lick as you salivate.
Your core,
Shaking towards a quake.
My cock,
The idol you worship upon knee.
Lollipop,
You suck extracting its seed.
Satisfaction,
I see in your cum filled smile.
Your cunt,
You now offer to be defiled.
Carnal,
The animalistic way in which we fuck.
Cumming,
As your hips gripped sway and buck.
Gluttony,
You suck our spent lust off with greed.
Addiction,
My cock, your God, you need.
Whatchya doin pretty girl?
Over there, half way round the world.
Are ya working hard? Watching TV?
Are ya daydreaming, thinking bout me?
I wonder sometimes, curiosity.
Call it infatuation, call it unhealthy.
But you are always on my mind, not just occasionally.
I’m talkin all the time. my mind never free.
So I’m pondering girl, whatchya ya up to now.
I wish I knew, some way, some how.
If I were a visiting alien,
I’d come and abduct you.
I’d whisk you away,
To the dark side of the moon.
I’d strap you down, probe you,
See what gets you off.
Impregnate you daily,
For scientific reasons of course.
The last thing I’d do,
Is insert a chip into your skin.
So I could track and pick you up,
When I swing by earth again.