Refraction.

Clovette XV

Muffled cries of pleasure;
I had thought her voice was heavenly
Prior to hearing them,
But now I can feel my heart pounding
Against my ribs -
It shall not be anybody's prisoner but hers,
Not anymore.
I revel in the way her dainty hands
Are scrunched in the bedsheets;
How those ivory legs quake,
Still wrapped around my hips,
Holding me tighter with each passing moment.
I have seen this before, more times
Than I care to count,
And yet her beauty only grows.
I know what satisfies her, and she knows
The same of me,
So her hands unfurl from the bedding
When I stop moving back and forth.
She begs so softly, sweetly -
Her hands move to my shoulders,
Skin soft as satin, though with a steely grip.
She just needs a little more, and
Implores me to give it
In the most delectable simper
That I could never refuse.
Teasing was, I thought, integral to
My pleasure,
But as I moved against her,
A sound so uninhibited left her lips
That I sought never to stop again;
My greatest desire was to fulfil her pleas,
To hear that titillating moan again.
Nobody but her could ever stop me,
Certainly not the rising sun, nor
The breaking day.
Her fingernails press into my back,
My fist entangled in her hair -
We never grow tired:
Today can wait,
It can be tomorrow for a little longer;
I wish to lay here with her
For just a short while more,
Perhaps until our insatiable desires
Finally run dry,
When my appetite is sated and
Can refrain from tasting her tender lips
For long enough to leave the bed.