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Love of Literature

Upon the nightstand rests my favorite book,  
I beckon her to bed to have a look.  
Anxious anticipation flutters in my chest,  
As the day's worries and woes, are laid to rest.

Tenderly, I take her in my hands,  
Caressing her cover, she knows my plans.  
Lightly yielding as we take our place,  
Willing and submissive, with gentle grace.

She's a beauty, in her soft subtle veil,  
Gently, my fingers trace her textures, an ardent braille.  
I know her body—every peak, every valley, a touch sublime,  
Tracing her contours, along the edge, then down her spine.

Pulse quickening, eager mind,  
Awaiting the adventure that lies inside.  
With delicate fingers, I find my bookmark,  
With heightened anticipation,
I spread her pages apart.

An intoxicating aroma fills the night air,  
A sweet, savory bouquet, found in classic books so rare.  
From the outer page, my finger glides,  
All the way across, till I'm just inside.

With a soft, tender touch, I navigate the crease,  
Gently pushing outward, tensions released.  
With attentive focus, all the way down to the end,  
Traversing to the other side, to start again.

Her soft, thin pages, a silky, delicate skin,  
A gripping story, further drawing me in.  
With the flick of my tongue, I wet my fingertip,  
And turn the page with a single finger flip.

Chapter 3, it's just her and me.  
Enchanted by her sultry love story,
Hopelessly entangled in her romantic glory.  
Page after page, we're intimately engaged,  
With kinks and cramps, our positions changed.

Playful paragraphs in passionate positions—
Quite the literary expedition.  
Steamy, sensual sentences scintillate the senses,  
Trembled? Or trembling? Lost all track of tenses.

Her sensual story, passionate and deep,  
Inviting me in further, tonight we do not sleep.  
Captivated by every line, savoring every word, I take my time.  
Two souls entwined, one rhythm and one rhyme.

Dawn's rays through the window gently creep,  
With a sigh, I slowly close the book, softly she weeps.  
"Rest assured, my darling, you'll be alright,  
For I'll see you again, another rendezvous tonight."

Of all my cherished tomes, she'll always be first,  
My love of literature, an unquenchable thirst.
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