Kneading Bread

Kneading Bread

The floured dough drops
To the marble table top
Your hands knead
With steady exertion
You are intent on your trade
You see me not
Mesmerised by your strength
Your rhythm
As your hands move the dough
From nowhere I am
Heated white with desire
For your floured hands
To knead my flesh
My rod into life giving
Release
To capture your breast's nipple
As you lean full and round
Into my mouth
Sucking you till you
Cry out in pleasure
Your bread forgotten
Your thoughts only of me
Of us
Of pleasure filled
Through my trousers
I stroke myself hard
In time with your rhythm
Suddenly
You stop.....
Your eyes upon me
Desire fills you
As you watch me
Stroking myself
Wiping your hands
You move towards me
Silently placing your floured hand
Over mine, pushing my hand away
Opening the zipper
Releasing me
And with one swift movement
I am swallowed whole
Into your eager
Warm, wet cave
A promise of other wet caverns
Whispered in the air
As the flour from your clothing
Floats as talc around us
You
Fully devouring me
Hungrily sucking
Intent on your ' meal'
And me, barely standing
At the onslaught
Feel the fire in my feet
The flow is coming
No stopping
Full thrusting
I hold your head still
Exploding my life force
Into your throaty depths
Crying out in my ecstacy
You smile
Stand
The bread completely
Forgotten.