You drift off in mid sentence.
I scratch across your scalp; run the fat of my tongue
from high-minded bush, through to your canal's petal-end.
Do not hunger for breakfast: there is never enough time
to spell out the alphabet over your clit, and slip
the tight roll of indigo panties, just below your cheeks; You stir, not easy, but fast.

I loosen your hips, wet you into a puddle, Even & Fast.
Shallow Strokes of a reed bending into the tide's incomplete sentence,
Your eyes flash open, aimed at my resurfacing tongue,
and I am dead still, even letting going of my bell-end,
then slowly your temples reach back into sleep. Time
counts off like shallow breathing, and I slip

back into thrusting against your inhalations, You slip
easily in and out of sleep. I have my way, but not fast;
You will sleep soundly, as I come inside and spell a complete sentence
with a single release. Slow-Pull & Shuttle the tip of my tongue
before it cools at your canal's petal-end.
Over-fill your belly-button just in time.

I can't resist pushing it over your tits. By the time
you wake up I will be a stiff skin that has once again given you the slip.
I explore you, without your permission or knowledge, and am not fast
to let-up. Obedient submission is the sentence
you speak sleeping through, even holding out your rigid
tongue for any, in anticipation. Ring my bell-end;

chime darkly down to your canal's petal-end
there is never enough time
You arch, unconsciously, slipping
my bent knee between your loosening cheeks, fast
to seep, for one sentence
you listen; the fat of my tongue

pushing against your swollen lips. I will Tongue
a groove into my sleeping cock-angel's very end
forget the time
you woke to me slipping
into your ass. I let you think that I thought you were asleep, and fast.

A sentence never left your mouth, nor did your tongue
stir, or twitch-end; you counted down
as I slipped into your ass one last time, Coming fast.