Flood Waters of Passion
As the sun went down this evening,
I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Thoughts of you dance through my head
Imagining you dreaming, alone in your bed.
What it would be like to slip in like the night,
To snuggle up close and hold you tight.
Skin to skin, I would press my firm breast,
Against the warmth of your hard furry chest.
I imagine my hands
As they do some exploring,
I know we will keep busy,
At least until morning.
I am your pupil,
You are my teacher.
I am the angel,
You are the preacher.
A little of this,
A little of that.
Ill give you some tit,
Youll give me some tat.
I imagine myself, soft placeuming the position,
Not on the bed, but the floor of the kitchen.
Its as if it has turned into the buckin chutes
I turn around to see if youre wearing your boots.
On hands and knees, I patiently wait,
For you to mount me and open the gate
My nipples are hard now, theres warmth to my skin
The floodwaters of passion flow freely again.
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