poem: in the mood for dessert

Her after-dinner habit was me.
licking lapping, sucking slurping
She fed on me, my juices gushing
Her tongue turned me on,
flicking my clit like a light switch.
the ac-dc current flowing, like Her hands
on my skin, on me, in me.
She was liquid chocolate on my breasts
dripping Her rich kisses on each nipple,
staining my flush body.
somewhere in the heat of things
I get lost in the division between me
and her rocking, body into body
breast against breast, thighs intertwined,
meshed into a sticky
sweet
creamy,
sweaty
mess.