Sinful dreaming, or vice versa

SINFUL DREAM, and vice versa

In my dream, you can smell me;
sniff ripeness leaking from me.

I dream you hear the obscene;
listen while fingers sink in,
slide out, squishing in and out,
stained with pungent sinful mess.

I dream you observe
unspeakable perversions;
watch me suck thick gobs
from fingers, glaze pouting lips,
and leak from the mouth’s corners.

I dream you feel my hands slide
down over your robe;
pray, pray while you helplessly
let me press you and stroke you
and cup you in my hands

I dream I prepare to empty you;
pray, knowing it is too late.

I dream a dark wet stain starts,
spreads, and saturates your robe;
try to speak in tongues
and beg me to stop.

I dream I kneel down,
licking at your robe,
which now reeks with sin
as years of vows seep
through the holy cloth;
beg me to stop

I dream you watch your vows
empty into my mouth,
strained through chaste fabric;
beg me to stop.

I dream I slide my hands up under your robe,
coax fingers and tongue’s snakelike tip
up into you, in and out;
beg me to stop.

I dream you fall to your knees;
raise your face upward
as I lean over you;
let me dribble everything
into your open mouth.

I dream you learn how sin tastes;
taste what I feed into you;
taste what I draw out from you,
drooled back into you,
into your now open waiting mouth
as you beg me not to stop.

My dream come true, Preacher.