Read introduction

Sinfully good

SINFUL SUNDAY

R86dnoiypzxf_2525255b1_2525255dby Ron Poetry02 Mar 2014

SINFUL SUNDAY
SISTER Ronette
THE FINALE. ..

ITS BEEN OVER 30 YEARS SINCE I RAN OUT OF THAT ROOM AFTER REVEALING MY FEELINGS TO SISTER Ronette... TODAY IM THE GUEST SPEAKER AT CHURCH.. GIVING MY VIEWS ON YOUTH VIOLENCE and ABUSE..Sitting near the pulpit I feel a hand placed on my shoulder and a gentle squeeze. .
SISTER Ronette.. A BIT OLDER BUT STILL SEXY AS EVER...She asks may we speak... I QUICKLY SAY YES....
She replies after service I'm staying at the Marriott on 92nd and York avenue room 223.. come by around 6pm..
ALL THROUGH SERVICE MY MIND WAS MOVING AT LIGHT SPEED WHILE TIME TOOK A TURTLES PACE.. ..... FINALLY 5:25 .. (YEAH IM EARLY.. wouldn't you be )..There was a key card left at the desk for me...I entered to lit candles.. DAMN .. this is nice.. THEN SHE APPEARED. .BEFORE I could say a word she said.. I asked you to come because I needed to say this... TODAY after 30 years..
Ronald.. I fight the restraints 
Holding me from you, 
Body aching painfully for your touch. 
Crying out in lustful agony 
As the cuffs bite deep into my tender flesh. 
Pain only adds to the heat 
Flooding my body pleasantly 
Making my womanhood flow rivers of cream, 
Begging to coat your hard MANHOOD
That is the only one to bring me any pleasure. 
Bucking my hips, desperately straining for your touch 
Only growing wilder as my pleas and moans 
Echo around the room. 
Watching me watch you as you 
Touch and stroke your manhood, 
I strain towards you begging a taste, a touch, 
Anything to make the fire in my body roar brighter. 
A grin molds your perfect sexy lips 
As you move closer, 
Stroking slowly that hot sexy brown bomber
That makes my attempts at being free wilder 
With need wanting you deep inside me. 
My tongue tastes my lips seductively 
As I bow my back, 
Thrusting breasts to the ceiling, 
Spreading my legs wider 
So you can see 
The white cream pouring out of me, 
Begging for your touch. 
Reaching out your hand hovers over my throat. 
Not touching, slowly moving down 
As if you wish to stroke 
The fevered skin laying just beneath your hand. 
Fighting the cuffs 
And restraints trying to make you touch me. 
Begging you to feed my fire till it rages 
So hot it burns as it courses through my veins. 
Laughing your hand hovers over my pussy, 
Pretending to stroke it 
As I buck 
My hips begging you to touch it. 
Closing my eyes in fleeting hope 
I open them again...and your gone. 
AND SHE REPLIES....
Nothing holds me but the black of night... MY DREAMS HAVE COME true. .. THEN I hear ..
Ronnie RONNIE WAKE UP WAKE UP.. fell asleep in church.. STILL a TEEN.
I CAN ONLY HOPE AND PRAY ..
SISTER Ronette.