Ecstasy; as your tongue explores
the rise and fall of fleshy hills and valleys,
searching eagerly for the tender pink idol
that it has so often worshiped.

Sensuously lingua dances,
circling in pre-worship reverence,
gradually moving ever closer,
fodder for the fire that you nourish.

The fire you have so patiently tendered
swells, from simple flame to delirious inferno.
With a low moan you surrender,
paying homage to the icon before you.

The heat - searing, as you lower your tongue,
placing it with gentle veneration
upon the small pink knoll,
your offering brings shudders of pleasure.

My hands seek out stability,
close upon double drifts of wrinkled sheets
as chills traverse slowly up my spine
before exploding like land mines.

The explosions, accompanied by torrential rains;
deluging this, your valley of sanctity;
quenching passions flame one more time.

Cobra-like you rise from the bush,
Heart-shaped hood opens to its full proportions,
Head sways high above sun-scorched grass.

A flute, my lips create melodious notes;
I play you with rhythmic cadence
And you dance your sensuous dance,

Hypnotized by the tempo of my tune.
Captivated by my eyes,
Enchanted by my melody as it travels over your skin. 

But it is not you who are Ophiophagus hannah,
It is I, she who is the charmer; the snake eater.
And in my hunger I swallow, head to hip
While your venom spills, still warm upon my lips.
 

S how me what you've got you say,
U tilize my potential; and you
C all me to your bed, you
K eep me there as I fight

M y narcissistic needs and you
E ducate me; teach me your games.

F ace-to-face, you watch me
U ndulate, straddling you, your
C ock now so deep inside and I am
K owtowing to your desire.

M elding, melting, I am cumming; you
E nvy my multi-orgasmic ability.

B ut I envy the power of your cock, I
L ust for your sex, and find myself
O piate, as you drug my senses and,
W e fuck, each lost in our desire.

M astery of your art complete and I
Y ell out your name as you

M ake me lose my mind.
I ntoxicated by my own orgasms, yet still a
N eophyte in your games of lust, and I
D ance to your rhythm as we cum.