Robert Beveridge


You walked in, 
found me naked, hand
clenched around my cock,
strain for release as dominant
as necessary as breath now
ragged with manipulation 
and exertion. Your eyes never 
leave my hand as you strip, 
slow, lean over me to pull 
the pillows from behind my 
head, give me an all too brief 
taste of pure pink nipple 
before you kneel, your thighs 
astride my ears, eyes still fixed
on my now-faster hand
as my tongue delves
into your deepest secret
places. It is never
long before the
outcome you
expect, desire,
the beautiful,
sticky release
and your shudder
against my 
tongue collapse
to chest and

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