Release

I watch you. Then I watch her. Now my eyes are to both of you glued. Your tongues dart back, forth, and entangle with each other’s as an erotic interlude. I sip sifter of Hennessey calmly aroused because I have been here before and the opposite end of a prude. But this delusion of grandeur let me not interrupt; how could I be so rude?

She is a deep, dark chocolate and you a curvy, consummate caramel; what an ice cream collage the both of you make. Am the wistful watcher watching, waiting, and wondering when I am that no longer, for much more of this I cannot take! As her hands roam your accentuations and your tongue does erotic excavation, finally for me you beckon. It will take all discretion and restraint for me not to release myself within the next second!

My pants drop easily to the floor, and like the Maya Angelou poem, I rise! For the next hours, I touch breasts, legs, backsides, rectums, and vaginal insides. You play policewomen and tie me, touch me, and tease me until my cries and screams will not cease. The stares of stupefaction that cross your faces are priceless, because I have not yet released release.

 - by the Greatest Poet Alive