James Lewis

Rookie (August 19,1975 / Newark, NJ)

Sex Scenario - Poem by James Lewis

I'm so glad that you came to see me, let me take your bag, you look so beautiful tonight I wanna take it bad,

but patience is a virtue as my Daddy used to say, I think that when I'm done they'll have to carry you away.

That's later on, right now I say we sit and chill a bit, I got some DVDs so go ahead and pick a flick,

there're dutches by the fridge I plan to give a little twist, and fill em up with piff to get us both a little lit.

A hundred eighty minutes later, movie time is done, we're baked like Grandma's cake on Sunday, now it's time for fun,

we've both been touchy feely during movies being viewed, a kiss that's executed perfect leaves you being nude.

I see your nether regions garner nary strand of hair, my mouth begins to water and I'm barely standing there,

for gravity is dragging me right down into the floor, erected hard and stiff like bodies struck with rigarmor.

You take me in your mouth real slow and time is at a crawl, my knees are trembling lightly as I'm poking out my draws,

the bobble-head you give is like your neck's a greasy hinge, my cheesy grin just means that you've unleashed the beast within.

Enough's enough, I lay you down, your legs at 10: 15, my mouth then wanders aimless all around and in the seams,

your tightened wizard sleeve you seem to store in skinny jeans, just call me Milkcum X, I'll get you off by any means.

You bust off automatic like a weapon 50-Cal, I'm black belt in the martial art of sticky licky style,

but even Shaolin monks of old possess their limits too, I ease into your wetness like a city swimming pool.

You like it from behind and on this fact I do agree, your oven's temp'rature feels like it's 92 degrees,

which makes me snap and crackle with a popping through my knees, releasing hot rice krispies all up in your gooey treat.

We pause to catch a breath before we share a snack with death, the time that we've let go don't mean we can't get back what's left,

the night's still in its infancy and though we're roughly drained, your touch means stuff has changed, I guess we'll see how much remains.

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Poem Submitted: Friday, May 27, 2011

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