Little man asleep and warm
cannot come to any harm
where he’s tucked in carefully
between the sheets where I can’t see.
Yet there are secrets I could tell
to wake him up, I know them well.
A warm caress, a hand well-placed,
then slowly, gently, have a taste
till big man’s little man arouses me
and grows to fill an aching need.
No more asleep, he’s rising now.
His impatience grows to show me how
warm mouth, hot tongue and oh so slow,
yet fast enough because he knows
that big man’s little man, while now alive,
will wait til big man parts my thighs
and like a dance that’s well-rehearsed,
in a hunger-driven quench of thirst,
his face now seeks and opens wide
where soon the little man wants to hide.
It’s my turn now to moan and sigh,
and the tender feelings make me cry
to have him plunge so deep within
that little man melds me into him.
C.J. Heck
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/big-man-s-little-man-adult/
