Treasure Island

Wilfred Mellers

(March 5,1962 / Kinston, Jamaica, West Indies)

True Confessions

My Confession
Written by Wilfred Charles Mellers Monday, April 14,2008

Let me make this perfectly clear
While I whisper in your ear
These things you must know
Let me say this before I go

This may bring to you some concerns
But for you my heart truly burns
To have you in my arms to possess
Passions concealed I must confess

My thoughts are filled with love of late
For your enclosure I want to penetrate
Nothing taboo I’d try them all
I want to breach the peach skin wall

Deeply I gaze in your brown eyes I stare
While slowly removing your underwear
You are the flower that I want to devour
In your room or in your shower

I would savor the taste upon my face
Trapped between the hour, reality, and space
Time I take and not a second haste I make
For the body eats as strawberry cake

I would handle the case and not a dropp I waist
Every joyous minute flavors vanilla’s taste
All will come to past if you let me
For deep in your love I want to be

From the sides to the center
This I do before I enter
Phallic tool does an amazing stunt
When taken from the back right to the front

Gluteus medius to maximus djembe drum plaid
Sensual strikes the sound cries softly made
Rhythms of syncopation cadences march my hands
Hot oils rubbed gently on barren lands

Brazilian waxed cleaned the service prepared with care
Explosive the membrane to enter if I dare
A moment’s passion became so clear
Heaven’s gates I was taken there

Diabetes dilute sweetness no more
Sweat embraced the body’s excitement the cure
Spelunking moisten cavern’s fingers ascertain
Seduction complete tighten flower flow like rain

Twisting and turning as the fire is burning
Discovering the spot now I am learning
Calling out for more satisfaction
Curling my back to each reaction

Harder and harder now I’m changing position
Soft on the sofa your bottom is the cushion
Circles made from mine to your hips
Tasted wine once upon my lips

Plunging reverse from interior back to the top
You cry out “mercy please don’t stop”
Gallantly riding to make an impression
Bodies move in timing to a wet sensation

Impaling till almost unconsciousness
Working the loins till almost numbness
Laboring intensely doing all I could
It hurts so nice, so well, so good

Crying out from love’s hot injection
Moaning and screaming near completion
Scratching of the flipside the nails are working
Holding on so tightly while you’re releasing

“That was so great” words are spoken
In context your words are taken
Bodies wet and needing of cleaning
Was it all real or was I just dreaming

Goodness gracious let be not my imagination
Lift me from this awkward frustration
Longing for the legs opened wide once again
Member wants to come now inside my friend

Fairytales no longer will be told
I want to be inside from the cold
Your body I want to have and to hold
Kissing and hugging your body I mold

Submitted: Monday, April 14, 2008

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