minute man.

i teased him.
mocked his urgency to have me
laid beside him the still of night
and kept my womanhood to myself
in march
april and may
he proved to be stronger than i had previously assumed.

so in june
i went to him.
"im ready"
is all i cared to say.

we sat and talked.
thickening the air between us
intensifying the intensity that had become us
we anticipated our next move
as our best move.

he took me to his bed.
laid me down on his sheets
crisp enough to be fresh out the package
a courtesy that most men didnt take the time out to consider.

he kissed me
i kissed him back.
allowed my tension to flow out with every breath from my nostrils
the rise and fall of my chest
with my breath
represented my body's yearning for pleasure.

he kissed me in my core.
took me in his mouth like he had been here before.
touched me
caressed me
felt me
met me in a place where i had never been.

i shook.
squirmed.
fought my own satisfaction
before he took my hands
held them
and made me his again.
he became addicted to my waterfall
as i fell into a subconscious state of passion

this was something new.
i saw stars
moons
satellites
epiphanies of orgasms that swarmed me like flies.

he made his way up.
kissing my fleshy folds
embracing my navel
licking my stomach
biting my nipples
and cupping my breasts.

we met.
lips on lips
i tasted my sweetness that had drawn him in.
and i touched him.

led him to my centerpiece
eased him into my birthing canal
released to him a place of warmth
and kissed him as he choked on his breath.

this
was
good.

we danced in the dark
black upon black
we created silouttes that mocked tangos and rambas
he lifted me as tho i was weightless
and before i pressed down upon his manhood...

it was over.
bitter
short
but sweet.

© 2009 by Andee.Blakk