I map him with my mouth

I don’t just take him in my mouth.

I map him.

I feel every ridge,
every vein,
every place he's soft or firm.

With my lips.
With my tongue.
With the roof of my mouth.

I don't perform or please
even if it pleases him.

I map him like Braille.

So when he enters me,
there is
no flinch.
No bracing.
No doubt.

My body already knows him.

When I map him with my mouth,

I am not serving him.

I am orienting myself.
I am telling my body:

He is known.
He is chosen.
He is welcome.

Sometimes,
mapping him this way,
knowing him like this,
his warmth,
his weight,
his pulse,
the way his breath shifts,
is enough for me.

Sometimes I don’t need him to enter my body.
I don't need climax.
I don't need more.

Sometimes,
placing him,
claiming his charge,
completes me.

And when I do take him inside me,
there is no invasion.
No shock.

He enters my body already lubricated.
He enters my space already prepared.

Because I mapped him first.
Because my mouth already measured him.
Because my body already said yes.