midnight massages (my experiences anyway ;0)A Poem by J. Randall Doddin this midnight room, by this bed, 'tis this incandescent, by which gloom is defeat'd, to retreat unto the corner'd crevice, to find its comfort. in this soft shine, she shyly, coyly, feigns the soreness of her shoulder, and begs of me to mold her skin and muscl'd fibers into massag'd shape; one befitting her princess sensibilities. with smile and guile she swoons and speaks in shorten'd, rhythmic breaths, the speech that is pleasing, and brings upon urge for myself to continue. and when the heat of constant, consistent friction brings about the need for the completion of other, less-proper things; i lean to give her my best needful, lust-filled eye, only to see that in my most heat'd moment, she is in a state of complete relaxation, fast asleep; leaving me to my own devices, when it comes to the return of tenderizing meat. © 2010 J. Randall DoddAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on July 1, 2010 Last Updated on July 1, 2010 AuthorJ. Randall DoddParagould , ARAboutAutomotive parts guy, poet laureate of Paragould, Arkansas🤘 more..Writing
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