Passion Carribean Flavored

by Cecil Scott

While sitting in a Jamaican restaurant
Reminiscing on our vacation to the island of Barbados.
Wondering what meal from the vast menu did I want?
I decided on Curry Chicken, salad and steamed potatoes.
I can vividly remember the moon that night,
It was full and reflecting off of the dark, blue ocean.
The beach was deserted to my surprise and delight,
Your sexy, silhouette back dropped by the horizon, was arousing me by its seducing motion.
The breeze coming off the water was tantalizing,
The light caused by the fire that I made, glowed just right.
Soft and heavenly, your perfume was hypnotizing,
The evening dress you wore, fitting your body so lusciously tight.
Your eyes, half closed caused by our rising passion were alluring,
Coupled with the wine that we drank earlier, made the moment sweet.
The buzz that we got from the taxi driver smoking ganja was assuring,
That in a little while our over excited bodies exploding in ecstasy, will soon meet.
I finished off the rest of my Red Star Lager while you slipped out of your dress,
Sensuously, you beckoned me to come and skinny dip.
By now my sensory inputs, overloaded by the vision of you I must confess.
My manhood hard and throbbing, threatening my pants to rip.
While standing in knee-deep water, we lock into a passionate embrace.
We greedily kiss each other under the moonlight.
Our blood together begins to boil; our hearts begin to frantically race,
We make love first standing up in the heat of the night.
Afterwards on the shore, the tide rolls in around our prone bodies,
The sheer eroticism of the past few moments was truly sublime.
With your head upon my chest I look up into the night and thank God, 
and make the decision for eternity with this woman, I was to spend my time.
On the beach towel you lay while slowly on your back I spread mango-flavored oil,
You exhale a breath from the depths of your soul so deep.
Skillfully my hands caress every inch of your body with no toil,
You part your legs slightly while between your thighs my hands start to creep.
I turn you over to massage your voluptuous breasts,
My insatiable tongue licking off the oil and savoring every drop.
Panting heavily, you arch your back for at your navel my head now rests,
Murmuring as your fingers run through my hair, “That’s it baby, please don’t stop.”
The passion goes on ‘til the morning sun starts to rise,
Over the horizon starting a brand new day.
From the rock on which I stand, I watch my baby peacefully lie,
Wondering where else on this tropical paradise tonight we will seductively play…

Passion Carribean Flavored by Cecil Scott

© Copyright 2003. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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