Overwhelmed

His kisses are so soft,  like spun sugar
His touch is so gentle yet commanding
The way he moves about my body,
like a skilled craftsman modeling his muse
This isn't sex,
nor is it any where near fucking
Its a possession
A possession of my body,  my mind,  my soul
And it just keeps getting better
Each time different from the last
A level deeper
A firmer embrace on my conscienceness
In my mind,  he dances through my days
And at night he is the warm breeze
That fans the flames of my heady desire
He is my morning rising
What began so simply in July
Has picked up speed,  gained momentum
Gave itself a purpose
And haunts my sex

"It only gets better".....
The words that taunt me
So true
Promising more,  even when I believe
there couldn't possibly be more
The surprise
The delivery
The awe

He's overwhelming me
And god I can't help myself



**Please Note,  this is Copywritten by me.