Which is the sexual feed?

She waits for me and I enter the room.
I undress her and she blushes.
I embrace her and she struggles.
My kisses and bites produce cries.
Pinches and licks make her writhe.
Into her when I toss she moans.
I find my sexual feed from her
Not in my manipulations of her
But in the reactions they make in her.
Watching her reaction is my pleasure
Rather than my devouring her flesh.
10.02.2010

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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