Shower.

When you take a shower.
Do you think of me?
Washing you all over.
Doing what I do.
Do you think I’m there with you.
Kissing your soft flesh.
Trailing kisses down your chest.
Slowly up your leg.
Do you think of when I placed.
Your leg astride my neck.
And how I spent an age down there.
As water cascades down your body.
And how you clenched so tightly.
And how your leg gave way.
As I slowly devoured you.
In the shower that day.
How I span you round to face.
Those cool white tiles.
How it felt.
Your breasts pressed hard.
Against that smooth ice wall.
My hands. 
My mouth.
Every inch.
And how it felt.
When I filled you.
Body.
Heart.
And soul.

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