I like it when I wake. When the sunlight rouses me at my own pace. When I've finally rolled over my last And the near-noon air hits my hip. I like being smooth. When I can slide my fingertips down lazily. When even after they've past my belly The sensitivity of hairlessness arouses me more. I like being arched. When my back is curved just a bit When legs are spread, but ankles cross I close my eyes, part my lips, and become ready. I like being hard. When my caress turns fevorish, attentive to my core. When the flesh heats up, throbs, and my inner spring coils Teeth clinch just so when I pant. I like when it's done. When the flood drowns me all at once. When my fingers are slick, and I rub just once more A young discovery, so delicious and sweet. shotalicious.org