Under Her, Above the City

June 10, 2025

The skyline hums, the city glows,
But I’m beneath her, no one knows.
The world below can scream and spin—
My world begins with kissing skin.

She leans back on a rooftop chair,
Black heels crossed, midnight air.
Above the streets, above the din,
She opens thighs—and lets me in.

No one can see us, no one dares.
The wind just lifts her loosened hairs.
A queen in leather, calm and high,
With steel in voice and storm in thigh.

“You serve me here,” she says, eyes wide.
“Among the stars, where men can’t hide.”
Her skirt pulled up, my mouth drawn tight—
I praise her with my every bite.

The Empire lights can’t match her glow.
She moans, and I forget below.
Each lap I give, each swirl and press,
Is hunger shaped in low success.

She holds my head, a sacred bind,
I drink her down, I lose my mind.
The taxis scream, the sirens cry—
But only her commands apply.

“Good boy,” she breathes—I shake, I drown,
In rooftop heat and city sound.
I’d stay right here and lick till dawn,
Beneath her gaze, my ego gone.