Sweat slithers slowly down your spine as I
snake my hands around your waist,
and roam the wilderness of your body.
Deeper and deeper I go with you
until escaping is not an option.
We climb the trees of passion as the branches of lust
slap us in the face, marring our flesh.
Finally, fatigue starts to set in
and now all I can do, is rely on you
to survive.
mystified-soul 
Love your metaphors.