Tuesday, April 19, 2011

"Thank You for holding, how may I help you?"


Everyday I see Him standing there
With his Chocolate self
I imagine he smells like Cocoa Butter and Ganja
He looks like his skin has been kissed by the sun
His smile brightens my eyes
Makes me moist Between my thighs
I fall into a daydream....
In this daydream we fuck until day becomes night

I find my climax upon his peak
Later I will brag to my friends that I set out to conquer Mt. Rushmore but instead it conquered me 
I fantasize about licking him from his lips to his tip
I feel him swell in excitement
He is made comfortable in the warmth between my lips 
Time has no authority in this prison of lust I have created in my mind
My creativity the warden every prisoner bending to my command
My prison has no bars and within its confines we are ironically free
I can will myself to do things I only secretly dream 
I order him to his knees and mount his face
I'm riding his tongue and I grab his dreads hoping they guide me through this race
I can feel myself climbing ... Brimming to the surface with pleasure
Rhythm is found and Beat is on it's way
It's almost time for my solo
I dig inside for all I've been holding back
I part my lips to release.... 
Let out my notes of sweet surrender.....
And.... The damn phone rings.
I open my eyes... 
I'm at my desk... 
Awoken from daydream turned wet dream...

 "Thank You for holding...             How may I help you?"