He lay there, naked on the old leather couch,
Nipples erect, waiting, poised, seductive….
Knowing his power, knowing he had me
Firmly within his grasp, wanting me to want him.

And it worked.  I did want him….
Wanted to take him, make him mine,
Ravish his body and soul until I penetrated to his core,
Heard his cry, answered his prayer to be touched,
Possessed, known deeper than anyone
Had ever possessed or plundered him before.

He might not say he was waiting to be loved….
It would make him too vulnerable to use those words,
But I had no doubt that’s what he wanted,
Something steady, something real—
Someone that would open him to his deeper need,
Open his heart without making him bleed.

He was in so many ways still a young boy,
Lying there naked on that old sheepskin rug….
And he makes me feel more and more a man
Than any boy has ever made me feel before.
How could I resist lying down beside him,
Moving on top of him….. kissing him deeply
As he opened his lips, his thighs, his heart to me.

His muscled arms encircled me, held me tight,
Squeezed until I gave him what he sought….
Took him, rode him, legs upon my shoulders,
His deepest parts opening, drawing me inside,
Asking, praying, needing new life to fill him,
Drench him, tenderly implant new seed
That would forever be one in flesh.