Among the aisles, beneath the lights,
We weave through shelves and quiet sights.
But there’s a pulse that hums unseen,
A secret dance that lies between.

He walks beside me, calm and sure,
His hand in his pocket, fingers secure.
The smallest movement, the slightest press,
And deep within, I feel the stress.

A remote he holds, unseen to all,
And with a touch, I feel the call.
A spark ignites, begins to climb,
My breath falters, out of time.

A steady beat he sets inside,
A rhythm only we can ride.
My legs quiver as the force begins,
Controlled by him, a fire spins.

The world around us, unaware,
But I feel his control everywhere.
His thumb a master of desire,
With every click, he fans the fire.

It flutters low, then surges high,
I catch my breath, stifle a sigh.
He teases with a gentle start,
Then cuts it off, a cruel art.

But soon he gives me more again,
A deeper thrum, I can’t pretend.
I grip the cart, my knuckles white,
The waves within, too much to fight.

He turns it on, he turns it off,
Each flicker makes me pause, then scoff,
At how he holds me in this trance,
A wicked, silent, sultry dance.

And when I think it’s gone for good,
He presses down, the surge is stood.
My knees go weak, my senses reel,
With every jolt, it’s all I feel.

Through aisles of bread, of fruit, of wine,
My body’s his, with every sign.
I try to walk, to stay composed,
But his control, it overflows.

The next press, the one that breaks,
The trembling force that overtakes.
I stumble, gasp, my legs give way,
But in his arms, I safely sway.

The cart forgotten, the world a blur,
He holds me close as senses stir.
No one around could ever guess,
The storm beneath this quiet dress.

His thumb still lingers on the key,
That hidden tool, that sets me free.
With every step, the passion flows,
A secret only the remote knows.

And then again, I reach the brink,
Where thought dissolves, I cannot think.
A surge so deep, it takes control,
A flood that drowns my very soul.

He presses once, the final time,
The world goes still, a perfect crime.
My body shakes, the wave too high,
I lose myself beneath the sky.

My body trembles as I climb,
Each step a shiver, lost in time.
The air grows thick, a silent hum,
My heart beats fast, I can’t succumb.

My knees collapse, my breath escapes,
As pleasure pulls me, bends, and shapes.
I fall, but feel his steady hand,
He catches me before I land.

I rise, I fall, each breath a plea,
As waves crash over, endlessly.
The tension builds, it twists, it pulls,
A force that fills me, makes me whole.

And then—so suddenly, it breaks,
A sharp, sweet tremor that it makes,
I fall, I spiral, breathless, blind,
A silent scream I cannot bind.

The world dissolves, I’m swept away,
Each pulse, each wave, a fierce display.
But when the storm has pulled me low,
I crave the height I’ve yet to know.

A trembling wave that wrecks my core,
Yet leaves me breathless, aching more.
The sharp, sweet fall, the final rush,
The pulse that leaves my body flushed,

It overtakes, it claims, it breaks,
But in its wake, the hunger aches.
For even as I quiver, spent,
A deeper fire won’t relent.

The edge was bliss, a fleeting taste,
But now I crave with growing haste.
The touch, the push that leaves me bare,
I need it back, I need it here.

NOW!

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