9 of 30

I recently accepted a challenge created by one of my twitter friends called 30 in 30. The idea is to write/post a new poem every day for 30 days. This promises to be very interesting for me seeing as how I've been going through some personal struggles as of late. At any rate, here's my ninth offering...



The Soft Place

Caught up between his rock and my soft place
We inhabit a space created by love's first kiss
His face peeks at me from between my thighs
His eyes find mine and he licks his lips
His fingers dance on the soft undersides of my knees
His hands pull my body closer...closer...and still closer
My gripping fingers give the linens a squeeze
His talented tongue rapidly races over my honeyed hive
My pretty mouth forms a perfect O
Every nerve ending feels alive
Deeper and deeper he digs and I push closer and closer to his mouth
He laps and sucks as if his soul is experiencing a drought
I try to run from the inevitable but he gives chase
Holding me firmly, he locks me in place
He changes his pattern, decreases his pace
His fingers tap upon the door and then let themselves inside me
Now his tongue, index and middle conspire to release the floodgates
I writhe and moan...caught up between his rock and my soft place