Hot Mess Poem by Amber Mitchell

Your caressing touch makes my eager skin sing
Your hot breath running down my neck sends chills
Desire running high from what it brings
Hungry for you flesh and all of its thrills

Throbbing for penetration and pleasure
Deep and hard inside of tight wet velvet
Your body's movements are my only cure
Your hold all of the strings, I'm your puppet

Called by lip biting and teasing gestures
Every sound heightening ecstasy
Twisting and weaving tongues easily lures
Intense orgasms pulse inside of me

Trembling satisfaction leaves me breathless
Turns me into a shuddering hot mess