Scratching the surface

[Be****]

The sense of an upturned hand glides down your spine
Your vertebrae's ripples enhancing the ride
A twist at the coccyx it returns to reside
On the nape of you neck lying softly aside
Leaving the tracks now flipped and reverted
with a slightly clawed hand, your shoulders are skirted
Cat like protusions scrawl a message of pleasure
Gasps inadvvertant show I may have your measure
Nails catching lightly, they journey far down
To the top of your thighs where your cheek's flesh rebounds
A circle of peach skin, claws strech and dig in
Revealing your treasures that lie deep within
Hot breath, sharp teeth, you're gasping again
A soft sliding tongue tells you pleasure begins.