The twitch


The pressure builds the anticipation
The hunger
The animal surfaces
Sweat, as the heart races
Words
Turn to
Grunts, moans, and heavy breath
Rising and rising still
The speed increases
The force becomes stronger
The rhythm is fluid
We interlock outstretched hands
And grasp for ones phalanges deep beneath the skin
Our blood boils down the same path
And then
Your movement
Your breath
			Your strength
				Exceeds me
And you twitch a powerful orgasm
As your eyes roll back in your head
And your voice screams forth the words i love to hear with my name

4/17/01
11:12pm
R. David Paine III