What The Pussy Wants

[synderella420]

The pussy's outer reaches' mountain ranges

form the entry to our pleasure, beg

to be explored, gilded, tickled, spread,

subjected to your scrutiny and attention's

teasing. Lilly portal. Oyster and pearl.

The pussy floats, awaiting fingers' and lips'

commands to ready open, yield, draw out,

inhale you into the cave where ali babba hides

his many clever treasures.

The contents of the pussy wish to be stirred,

and then not: your movement and not-movement

each affording a distinct intonation

in the establishment and the breaking of rhythms.

Your hands and mouth say, "Open," a thousand ways,

and the pussy answers each demand

with a separate "Yes," yearning your arrival.

So when the cock knocks with aspirations of entry,

asks ingress, its head heavy with blood,

and pushes at the unlocked gate to the garden,

it will swing, and rock, and roll, and cinnimon bun

swirl the dick inside a dance choreographed

by children, beasts, or the closest of friends,

so happy to be together again after any time

too long a time to have been apart;

searches out the smooth and rough,

the tight and loose, the depth and shallows --

O. And as we fuck, the pussy unfolds

beyond the farthest reaches of imagination;

caresses with the inmost muscles, your penis

coaxes thoughts of where this beginning lives;

and then, with torso, arms, eyes, and tongues,

tangles in a combination lock of tumbling --

falls from the clouds in a hallelujah chorus

[DJGaryMatthews]

what the pussy wants, the pussy gets