TWO SUNDAYS IN MARCH
Sex on a Sunday is something to settle into
Has me salivating as if I’ve seen something savory on a menu
Sensuous and satisfying, wanting it to perpetually continue
In subtle sensual surroundings lending itself to be ‘our’ sexual venue
With light just bright enough to set the mood for ‘sexy-nasty’ things
And all that comes along with what ‘sexy-nasty’ brings
From the peeling off of the garments, to the nakedness at long last
To me planting kisses down her spine … to the kissing of her ***
From me tongue swirling her navel and then claiming it mine
Going further down planting kisses on her bikini line
To the ‘land down under’ and other various areas of undress
My tongue finds its way to the top of her ***** and performs a ****oral press
Peeling back the sheath that housed clitoral glory, as no mistake
Pressing the rough side of my tongue to her naked nanny … she hissed like a snake
And gripped both of my arms with both of her hands
Her body slithered as does the body of a cobra on hot sand
Instant sensations pulsed from her mid-section
With the shock of sheer ecstasy pulsing every square inch of her complexion
Awakening dormant pleasures causing her pelvis to rise
Shuddering from the tongue play that I put down … to her surprise
Forcing her ***** into my face as I nibbled on her ****
Alternating between tongue swirls and nibbling on her ‘lil' bit’
Creating a frenzy that had her moaning without dishonor or shame
Events converged to the point where she shamelessly screamed my name
Fettered by a mutual grasp as I made a meal of her, down below
Under the influence of cunnilingus, neither of us would let go
Crouched in between her thighs and my face smeared with her wetness
Knocking on the door of orgasm, her pelvic surges were relentless
Eventually she came, slamming her excited ***** into my face
Deliberately feeding me her cuntal cuisine at an intermittent, varying pace
Begging me not to stop until her coochie stopped pulsing, in total sum
Yearning to continue the passion until her ***** stopped it’s cum
Sex on a Sunday sanctions certain sensitivities
Serenading serious sensual seductions and taking certain liberties
Freedoms to proclivities set squarely on sensual effects
Which culminates in said certain ‘some ones’ having sex
After a time of being fed a steady diet of vagina
And being smacked in the face by a ***** hotter than the summertime Carolinas
With my face stained by he nectar of her ‘feminine vanity’
I maneuvered to insert myself into the self same cavity
Penetration on the down-stroke, the feeling was undeniable
With a feeling that’s beyond words … it was indescribable
Compelled by urges that propelled me to **** with no faults
To move through her like an easy breeze, effortlessly and without thought
It’s almost an out of body experience the way this episode unfolds
Equally amazing is the power that her ‘nani’ holds -
To keep me distracted in the most pleasurable way
Which kept me attracted to her so, in manners that I just won’t say
Events that we were involved in inched us closer to satisfaction
Moving in a dance of sorts, I felt her states of relaxation and contraction
Mounted and moored in a dynamic portrait of sexuality
Attracted to each other like masses drawn to earth by gravity
Simply suctioning was her ***** as I moved in and out of her
Stirring physicality and emotion as from her lips I heard an outer purr
Tensing and relaxing vaginal muscles, actions that increased in frequency
Easily pushing her to the edge of orgasm, adding to sexual eccentricity
Augmented bouts of passion had us paired like hand in glove
Murmurings from her lips uttered “****, I think I’m in love”
Yearning to nut in wetness as our flesh constantly merged
Providing the perfect moment for our climaxes to simultaneously converge
Ultimately we came, and afterwards we were spent
Slowing the rhythm after experiencing something that felt so ‘heaven sent’
So spent were we that we fell into a slumber, embraced in the space of a friend
Yearning to perpetuate this moment, this second Sunday came to an end
Sex on a Sunday sequesters simple action
Slurping, swallowing, sipping, sucking and ******* to satisfaction
Surrendering to select sexual ‘sanities’ to which we both concede
With a caption that reads “satisfaction guaranteed”
Second session on a fourth Sunday in this month of March
Has my ‘stylus’ stiff as a pair of pants saturated in starch
Anxious and antsy to be in between eager thighs
Yearning to hear those ecstatic moans, groans and cries
I peeled off her clothing like a piece of fruit, once again
Exposing a naked damsel to the surroundings of our den
With potential ecstasy transforming into kinetic passions to expend
Coming together to **** each other ... and for time lost, make amends
She sits on the bed and gaps her legs … and I know just what to do
Kissing the lips of her twat with an excitement, brand new
As I pressed my tongue to her ****oris with a firm tongue twirl
The feeling gets good to her, because I felt her hips swivel and swirl
I placed the tip of my tongue on her ****, mashing it to her frame
Winding it around as she ground my face with her ‘face with no name’
Acting on the stimulus of cunniligual activation
Setting off a whirl of feelings … in saturation
******* my face again as I was pleasuring her ‘bod’
Again screaming in exclaim, “Oh God, Oh God!”
Crashing into my face was the ***** of a sexual damsel in distress
Ever hungry for more cunnilingual liberation and a stern tongue press
Feeling the finer parts of a vagina that was starved for attention
Undeniably yearning for the acts of which have been made mention
Convulsing courageously, bucking like a wild horse
Keeping up an excited din of sighs and hissing, ******* up my top lip, of course
Edged on by a tongue that flickered like a snake
Drowning me in her juices as she came for orgasms sake
Brushing my face with her ejaculate as her ***** pulsed proudly
Yammering in her orgasmic language for a time, screaming my name loudly
Sex on a Sunday is sweet and simply bliss
Guilty pleasures measured with a ‘certain’ sinfulness
In spun finesse, unrepressed are passions sought in singular passions tense
Serving sentence for un-repentance of celebrated celibacy and abstinence
Stiff as a broomstick and primed for the inevitable
Excited by the foreplay of a ***** made edible
Which punished my face and made a heartbeat skip
When the coochie slammed into my mouth and fattened my lip
I stuffed her vaginal cavity with my digit of desire
And like electricity being carried by wire -
A feeling pulsed through my entire body as I penetrated her place
At that moment, I spied an urgent look on her face
She was about to cum … her converging urges are to arrive
Feeling adjustments in her rhythm, I put it in overdrive
Pumping and pulsing in and out of her while she hung on my neck like a necklace
******* until I feel her body shudder and I felt cuntal wetness
Emanating from her pubic mounds was an orgasmic lubrication -
Making for an amazing discourse of intercourse with a wet sensation
Matching moments with mutual masturbative interaction
Aching to make her make water and wet our space in satisfaction
Sure to start fires of sorts in short with urges made manifest
Stretched to stressed limits, inhibited mannerisms pleads no contest -
To the temperaments of a sexual cascade that bombard in a barrage
Escapades of euphoric moments etched in my mind as a private collage
Alternating between up and down strokes provoked her to a strange envy
Muttering in a contemptible babble “Keep your **** in me!”
Yielding to a command that I was only to happy to comply with
Pounding her ***** with only my wits to fly with
Unsung but yet sprung on the events of the hour
Sanctioning a continuance of the actions from which neither of us would cower
Shedding all shame as we spent ourselves to fatigue
Yawning to slumber after extending ourselves out of our league
Written by: K-JiO
© 2009
Sex on a Sunday is something to settle into
Has me salivating as if I’ve seen something savory on a menu
Sensuous and satisfying, wanting it to perpetually continue
In subtle sensual surroundings lending itself to be ‘our’ sexual venue
With light just bright enough to set the mood for ‘sexy-nasty’ things
And all that comes along with what ‘sexy-nasty’ brings
From the peeling off of the garments, to the nakedness at long last
To me planting kisses down her spine … to the kissing of her ***
From me tongue swirling her navel and then claiming it mine
Going further down planting kisses on her bikini line
To the ‘land down under’ and other various areas of undress
My tongue finds its way to the top of her ***** and performs a ****oral press
Peeling back the sheath that housed clitoral glory, as no mistake
Pressing the rough side of my tongue to her naked nanny … she hissed like a snake
And gripped both of my arms with both of her hands
Her body slithered as does the body of a cobra on hot sand
Instant sensations pulsed from her mid-section
With the shock of sheer ecstasy pulsing every square inch of her complexion
Awakening dormant pleasures causing her pelvis to rise
Shuddering from the tongue play that I put down … to her surprise
Forcing her ***** into my face as I nibbled on her ****
Alternating between tongue swirls and nibbling on her ‘lil' bit’
Creating a frenzy that had her moaning without dishonor or shame
Events converged to the point where she shamelessly screamed my name
Fettered by a mutual grasp as I made a meal of her, down below
Under the influence of cunnilingus, neither of us would let go
Crouched in between her thighs and my face smeared with her wetness
Knocking on the door of orgasm, her pelvic surges were relentless
Eventually she came, slamming her excited ***** into my face
Deliberately feeding me her cuntal cuisine at an intermittent, varying pace
Begging me not to stop until her coochie stopped pulsing, in total sum
Yearning to continue the passion until her ***** stopped it’s cum
Sex on a Sunday sanctions certain sensitivities
Serenading serious sensual seductions and taking certain liberties
Freedoms to proclivities set squarely on sensual effects
Which culminates in said certain ‘some ones’ having sex
After a time of being fed a steady diet of vagina
And being smacked in the face by a ***** hotter than the summertime Carolinas
With my face stained by he nectar of her ‘feminine vanity’
I maneuvered to insert myself into the self same cavity
Penetration on the down-stroke, the feeling was undeniable
With a feeling that’s beyond words … it was indescribable
Compelled by urges that propelled me to **** with no faults
To move through her like an easy breeze, effortlessly and without thought
It’s almost an out of body experience the way this episode unfolds
Equally amazing is the power that her ‘nani’ holds -
To keep me distracted in the most pleasurable way
Which kept me attracted to her so, in manners that I just won’t say
Events that we were involved in inched us closer to satisfaction
Moving in a dance of sorts, I felt her states of relaxation and contraction
Mounted and moored in a dynamic portrait of sexuality
Attracted to each other like masses drawn to earth by gravity
Simply suctioning was her ***** as I moved in and out of her
Stirring physicality and emotion as from her lips I heard an outer purr
Tensing and relaxing vaginal muscles, actions that increased in frequency
Easily pushing her to the edge of orgasm, adding to sexual eccentricity
Augmented bouts of passion had us paired like hand in glove
Murmurings from her lips uttered “****, I think I’m in love”
Yearning to nut in wetness as our flesh constantly merged
Providing the perfect moment for our climaxes to simultaneously converge
Ultimately we came, and afterwards we were spent
Slowing the rhythm after experiencing something that felt so ‘heaven sent’
So spent were we that we fell into a slumber, embraced in the space of a friend
Yearning to perpetuate this moment, this second Sunday came to an end
Sex on a Sunday sequesters simple action
Slurping, swallowing, sipping, sucking and ******* to satisfaction
Surrendering to select sexual ‘sanities’ to which we both concede
With a caption that reads “satisfaction guaranteed”
Second session on a fourth Sunday in this month of March
Has my ‘stylus’ stiff as a pair of pants saturated in starch
Anxious and antsy to be in between eager thighs
Yearning to hear those ecstatic moans, groans and cries
I peeled off her clothing like a piece of fruit, once again
Exposing a naked damsel to the surroundings of our den
With potential ecstasy transforming into kinetic passions to expend
Coming together to **** each other ... and for time lost, make amends
She sits on the bed and gaps her legs … and I know just what to do
Kissing the lips of her twat with an excitement, brand new
As I pressed my tongue to her ****oris with a firm tongue twirl
The feeling gets good to her, because I felt her hips swivel and swirl
I placed the tip of my tongue on her ****, mashing it to her frame
Winding it around as she ground my face with her ‘face with no name’
Acting on the stimulus of cunniligual activation
Setting off a whirl of feelings … in saturation
******* my face again as I was pleasuring her ‘bod’
Again screaming in exclaim, “Oh God, Oh God!”
Crashing into my face was the ***** of a sexual damsel in distress
Ever hungry for more cunnilingual liberation and a stern tongue press
Feeling the finer parts of a vagina that was starved for attention
Undeniably yearning for the acts of which have been made mention
Convulsing courageously, bucking like a wild horse
Keeping up an excited din of sighs and hissing, ******* up my top lip, of course
Edged on by a tongue that flickered like a snake
Drowning me in her juices as she came for orgasms sake
Brushing my face with her ejaculate as her ***** pulsed proudly
Yammering in her orgasmic language for a time, screaming my name loudly
Sex on a Sunday is sweet and simply bliss
Guilty pleasures measured with a ‘certain’ sinfulness
In spun finesse, unrepressed are passions sought in singular passions tense
Serving sentence for un-repentance of celebrated celibacy and abstinence
Stiff as a broomstick and primed for the inevitable
Excited by the foreplay of a ***** made edible
Which punished my face and made a heartbeat skip
When the coochie slammed into my mouth and fattened my lip
I stuffed her vaginal cavity with my digit of desire
And like electricity being carried by wire -
A feeling pulsed through my entire body as I penetrated her place
At that moment, I spied an urgent look on her face
She was about to cum … her converging urges are to arrive
Feeling adjustments in her rhythm, I put it in overdrive
Pumping and pulsing in and out of her while she hung on my neck like a necklace
******* until I feel her body shudder and I felt cuntal wetness
Emanating from her pubic mounds was an orgasmic lubrication -
Making for an amazing discourse of intercourse with a wet sensation
Matching moments with mutual masturbative interaction
Aching to make her make water and wet our space in satisfaction
Sure to start fires of sorts in short with urges made manifest
Stretched to stressed limits, inhibited mannerisms pleads no contest -
To the temperaments of a sexual cascade that bombard in a barrage
Escapades of euphoric moments etched in my mind as a private collage
Alternating between up and down strokes provoked her to a strange envy
Muttering in a contemptible babble “Keep your **** in me!”
Yielding to a command that I was only to happy to comply with
Pounding her ***** with only my wits to fly with
Unsung but yet sprung on the events of the hour
Sanctioning a continuance of the actions from which neither of us would cower
Shedding all shame as we spent ourselves to fatigue
Yawning to slumber after extending ourselves out of our league
Written by: K-JiO
© 2009
