My gaze <br />follows his crotch. <br /> <br />I am pooped out <br />& propped up <br />on a throne of cushions <br /> <br />and so his crotch <br />and my eye <br /> <br />are on the same level. <br /> <br /> <br />He, as it happens <br />is doing the hoovering. <br /> <br />I recline like a latter day <br />Mati Hara or a Cleopatra <br /> <br />glass of wine <br />cradled in one hand <br />fag in the other. <br /> <br />I watch <br />as the room <br />comes cleans <br />under his touch. <br /> <br />I get an...urge! <br /> <br />'Come here! ' <br />I call him. <br /> <br />He comes as he is <br />bidden <br />and I unzip him. <br /> <br />'No...don't <br />say anything! ' <br /> <br />I command <br />him. <br /> <br />He gulps <br />as I deepthroat <br />him. <br /> <br />I gulp <br />as he explodes. <br /> <br />'Thank you! ' <br />I tell him. <br />'...I needed that! ' <br /> <br />He finishes the hoovering. <br /> <br />I love <br />getting in touch <br /> <br />with his masculine <br />side.<br /><br />Dee Wright<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/getting-in-touch-with-his-masculine-side-2/