Poems about Love

loml (his pov 1)

His pov,

She, the love of my life and my future wife,
is someone I love so much.
More than anything in this world.
She's wild, crazy, reckless,
yet she is kind, caring and honest.

I love the way she dances when she thinks no one's around.
The way her body twirls,
the way she transfers her weight from one side of her body to the other,
the way her curls move in the air,
and the way she smiles and glows with joy.
And when she notices that someone's watching,
the way her face turns red in embarrassment.
Ah, I could watch this scene my entire life!

I love the way she makes love to me.
It's rare to see a woman take the lead,
but when they do, it's drop-dead attractive.
And that's one of the many things that I love about my girl.
She loves people with everything that she is.
If she loves someone, she makes sure that they know.

Well, in bed,
we try to have some self control,
to not take things way too fast.
I kiss her with so much passion.
The best is when I kiss her neck.

"Ticklish," she says, smiling.

"Sorry," I say and kiss her lips.
I put my hands inside her top, feeling her body,
every curve and every inch.

Eventually, she had to take control and stop me because I was giving her a love bite on her neck.

She walks to the mirror and looks at what I'd done,
"You're a fuckin dog!" she says after looking at the love bite.

I laugh at her reaction.

She looks at me like she wants me, now!
And, that was all the self control we could have.
"Fuck it!" she says and pulls me in bed with her.

She undresses me in the most rough way possible,
almost tearing my shirt instead of unbuttoning it,
while I just beam at her like a love-sick puppy.
She lays next to me caressing my *ahem* you know it, *ahem* yeah that, with her hands.
She's so good at it, man!
She plants kisses on my hairy chest and doesn't mind the hair at all.

Soon, she's on top of me,
her curls falling on the side of my neck,
tickling me slightly.
I get lost in another world.
"Is this happening to me? Am I the chosen one?" I ask myself, feeling so grateful that I'm the one she chooses.
She moves herself on top of me in the most amazing way,
and soon I come.
I feel her warm and wet, and I come inside her over and over.
I can feel the walls of her insides contracting,
trying to take my semen inside.

When we're both done,
she takes care of the mess,
grabs one of my shirts that is so huge for her that it almost swallows her whole.

She makes her way to the kitchen and asks innocently, "Dude, is there something to eat or are you planning to starve me to death?"

I burst out laughing at the two extremes that she is,
and also because this was going to be my reality until we are gray and old.
One moment she is all reckless with me in bed,
and the next, all she cares about is food.

I walk to the kitchen and pull her cheeks.
I open one of the cabinets and pick out a pack of rusks.

"Here, your favorite snack," I say handing her the pack.

She snatches the pack with a pout on her face which suggests, "why were you laughing at me?!"

I pull her by the waist and hug my girl, my future wife.

"Okay, I love you and all, but let me go! I'm hungry!" she says, still with a pout on her face.

"Sure sure, carry on ma'am. I love you too," I say, blushing.