Hands tied with black satin straps,
secured firmly to the mahogany headboard.
You strain half heartedly.
But have no real desire to be free.
Chest rises and falls, straining the material of
the violet chemise.
(Your only adornment, you need nothing else)
Your breath comes in pants,
your nipples outlined against the lace.
I have to close my eyes not to pant with you.
Your skin, a saucer of cream, on top of white cotton sheets,
the rough fabric mussed under your arching back.
Bare feet and legs, strive to find purchase,
but slip away.
I sit next to you
and place my hand on your mound.
Time to begin.
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<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/erotic-poems/a-scent-of-lilacs.aspx">A Scent of Lilacs</a>