Sex Scenario: Heat

Sex Scenario: Heat

A Poem by The Cunning Linguist
"

Summertime lovemaking....

"
I woke up in the AM with a smile stuck to my face,
excitement of the subconscious; you're coming to my place,
we haven't seen each other in like 3 to 6 long weeks,
the weatherman predicts this day as sticky sweet with heat.

The index may just see a yard before it's 10 o'clock,
and humid like the depths of Hades, baby swimmin hot,
until bout 12 o'clock at midnight, things like this remain,
but even that won't keep me from positioning your frame.

It's been a while for both of us to think or reminisce,
on top of that the central air AND sink are on the fritz,
a visit from your sis prohibits your house as the stage,
so one way or the other, both of us are gonna blaze,

the essence of our bodies while we do what grownups do,
I get my cleanup on with knowledge you'll show up at 2,
and when I see you standing there I'm so in love with you,
emotions overwhelm me and I don't know what to do.

The air is very stuffy with the windows open wide,
I ask if you'd prefer to go outside and take a ride,
the look that's in your eyes reflects a lustful state of mind,
our mouths embrace and finds our tongues have claimed a place inside.

The heat resigns the both of us to take off all our clothes,
I kiss away a bead of sweat that slow rolls down your nose,
the bed seems like a million miles away so down we go,
to roll around the flo' (floor) but yo, the carpet's clean fa sho.

It feels as though the Devil sits and watches in the flesh,
our torsos are contorted and severely washed in sweat,
which we don't mind a bit, the loving sets our mind adrift,
like ocean liner ships we sail a sea of finer bliss.

The heat is now titanic, feels like sandwich meat we breathe,
you stand me up with ease to then descend like night degrees,
you see, me being me, can't let you do it all this time,
increased oppressive heat recipric'lly we 6 this 9.

To dine this way is something like a meal fit for a king,
I'm purring like a kitten whilst I'm licking up your cream,
and no it's not a dream, we're wide awake and steamin out,
I'll call you ice cream cone the way you melt and cream my mouth.

You then are quick to mention that I offered you a ride,
your skills to clutch a stick are of an automotive style,
like Yukon trucks and Escalades, you're of the highest end,
you hop up like a rabbit as my carrot slides right in.

The heat increases moisture so of course you're dripping wet,
you steer your hips with vigor til your forehead's dripping sweat,
about my neck and facial features straight into my eyes,
I'm blind as I arrive releasing freon up inside.

A Gatorade will work for me as water works for you,
we've both decreased our weight a pound or maybe even 2,
to hear the sudden whoosh of central air is peachy sweet,
we turn it off to get it on cause nothing beats the heat.

©2010
The Cunning Linguist

© 2014 The Cunning Linguist


Author's Note

The Cunning Linguist
Written in 2010.

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Added on July 9, 2014
Last Updated on July 9, 2014
Tags: Poetry, Sex, Erotic, Lovemaking, Wordplay

Author

The Cunning Linguist
The Cunning Linguist

Wanaque, NJ



About
Born & raised in Newark, NJ, T.C.L. started writing poetry at age 14 and continues to let a wide variety of topics influence his writing and is not afraid to tell it how he feels it, no matter who get.. more..

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