Poetry by A. H. Scott
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DRAWN
Man to woman
Woman to man
Drawn
Woman to woman
Man to man
Human to human
Drawn
Crossing each other’s worlds unplanned
Was it that certain coolness of his stride?
Could he bring out her wild side?
Drawn
Just looking at him, she knew
Excitement and fascination drew her in
Luckily for her, magnetism was mutual
She was anxious for a thrill
He was a man who had that drive and will
Drawn
Moth to flame
Drawn
Into desire’s web without any blame
Choice to explore one another without shame
Drawn
Flirtation and arousal tease the senses in that delicious dance of introductions between man and woman
Drawn
A few dates here and there
They both enjoyed each other’s time
Nothing much to write home about
Drawn
For the first time in her life, a man tapped her core
Beyond those slim folds so moist
Her inner flame rejoiced
Drawn
She’d never been with a man like him
Cocky and so damned, self assured
He had women in his bed without snapping a finger
Sophisticated seduction was his trigger
Vanilla was her life
Amaretto swirl was what he could deliver
Boring was one thing he never was
In his world, she took trust into her own hands
Drawn
He was a man, not a boy
She was a woman, not a girl
Debonair swashbuckler caressed her pearl, as adventure on this night took both for a whirl
Treasured most between them was trust
Drawn
Head rested on pillow, as she waited for him to begin
One hand patted her bare ass, while the other held instrument of amusement
Drizzle of red wax flowed downward onto alabaster skin
Whistle of cool breath from his lips kept the degrees at a minimum, as she flinched from contact with that candle
Resembling Red Hots candy, a quintet of color nestled onto right cheek of her ass
Just like the flavor of fiery cinnamon, this visual stirred his senses
Slightly she purred for him
Drawn
A few whispers into her ear were a sonnet so nastily sweet
Drawn
Fingers flicked off the wax onto the sheet
He took her without haste
Not a moment of entering her would be put to waste
She invited him in deep, for a promise of fulfilling his wanting was one which she always would keep
Legs wrapped around his back were nothing compared to unwrapping the inhibitions she’d had before him
She knew he had others, yet didn’t care
No way in hell would she regret anything they’d chose to share
Opening her eyes to sensual surprise was his lesson for this night
As for teaching him something, it was her becoming attuned to the ecstasy of delight
His touch, his whisper, or even wax melted on flesh was a melody she absorbed in her soul
Spirit of this encounter would never grow old
Curiosity eternal
Drawn
About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and frequent contributor to Tony Ward Erotica. To read additional poetry by A. H. Scott, go to the search bar at the bottom of the page, type in author’s name: click the search icon.
Photography by Tony Ward, Copyright 2015