#812) If She Was My First, Will There Be a Second, a Seven Hundredth?

There is a famous phrase, "she was poetry in motion."
When I first saw you, that phrase filled my mind,
as I tried to keep from staring at your 
tight and trim, undulating bottom, a sonnet in itself.
Then I got to know you, discovered that you are
unassuming and humble
kind and generous
sweet and optimistic.
Then I got to know you sexually, and discovered that you are
voracious and ravenous
hungry and insatiable
innovative and unpredictable.
There are poems inside of you, Gillian,
that paper cannot contain, that words cannot capture.
Yours was the first nipple I sucked since my mother's.
Yours was the first pussy I tasted after my own on my man's lips.
I found both, and you, to be addictive.
I will remember you always and forever and fondly,
as I wonder if you are my gateway drug...

(The above model does not resemble Gillian facially. Gillian is not conventionally beautiful. Nonetheless, I find her looks enchanting, beguiling, stunningly attractive. The above model does have a body nearly identical to Gillian’s hard body, what I call a Pilates hottie, lithe and lean.)

3 responses to “#812) If She Was My First, Will There Be a Second, a Seven Hundredth?”

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