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33 · May 18
Kitty Kat
Mia J May 18
Warm kitty, moist kitty, let him untie your bow
Spread your legs and be his intimate ***
He knows your lewd desires without you telling
The concentrated flicks of his tongue will have you yelling
To the top of your lungs with years of hidden lust
Inhale and exhale if you must
Relax and let him give you his hard bone
Warm to the touch and stiffer than stone
Stroke after stroke will begin to poke
At that button causing you to feel stoked
Kitty Kat will tighten up and clamp
Your juices, as juicy as they please, will grow damp
Beneath your full moon
Your ****** will punctually arrive soon
The puddle will sneak out of your garden
He’ll beat it up so supremely that he won’t need a pardon

Your Kitty Kat is stronger than you know
She’s so tight that he won’t ever tell you no
She’s a Soprano while he is a baritone
That slings and swings lower than a silenced microphone

Kitty Kat was the lock and his bone was the lost key
That you waited for

Warm kitty, moist kitty, let Big Papa make that ***** purr.
You can handle every inch as the good girl you are.
Claw and scratch at his back and his sheets.

Foxy little Kitty Kat,
Let Big Papa conquer you as a lion conquers his lioness.

-Mia J
10/20/2024

© 2024 Mia J
This poem was composed in 2024
28 · May 18
Dark History
Mia J May 18
Yet another belabored black corpse swinging from a tree
like a camouflaged pendulum

That corpse had a name
a decent job and a sincere life
a soft voice and a loving heart

Ignorant hecklers only saw black skin
and acted accordingly

The body was drug back and forth
through mud and
Beaten on all parts until no more
blood was
left to pour out
Its hands were bound together tighter
than the rope
wrapped about its neck

The body hung from a tree-like
a star on a Christmas tree
Hecklers and onlookers smiled like
the dead black corpse
was a badge of honor

Each breath of the wind moved the body to and fro
The strongest breath didn’t make the
body fall
Children played near the dangling body
The stench of the black death won’t affect
their five senses ever

The body had a life before becoming
a sideshow attraction
The body had a life before becoming a
warning for others just like it

Such displays of blatant violence would always be an act of suicide
But society will always know the brutal and ugly
truth

-Mia J
9/26/2021

© 2021 Mia J
This poem was composed in 2021
28 · May 18
BGB
Mia J May 18
BGB
A strong pair of hands belong gripped on my thick hips.
Squeezing them with raw lust that will flow through my body like a river of sin.
The face attached to those hands will smirk at me.
His hands will drift to my chocolate derriere.
Both cheeks won’t fit in his hands.
Yet he will have handfuls of my homegrown thickness.

He’ll have a pair of thick lips that will softly kiss my ****** ones.
His kiss would tell my body his deep desires.
He desires to be the first man to explore my love gardens.
My ***** is wrapped tighter than a highly anticipated birthday gift.
My vaginal walls tremble for a masculine touch.
His hands deserve access to unwrap my most prized possession.
My legs will spread apart with no hesitation.

His lips will greet my lower ones with a soft kiss.
My lower lips are more sensitive than a mimosa pudica.
My lower lips will respond with a cry of liquid pleasure.

And he will deserve it.
And I will need it.

His tongue strokes will send electricity through my body.
My ***** will become a swimming pool of excitement.
My walls will separate with each flick
to make room for something thicker.
My cat will eye his hard curiosity and crave a pounding.
I won’t need him to start tender.
My fingers will dig into his back as he enters my moist caverns.
My body will become his possession.
He will kiss my lips,
cheeks, and
neck as he conquers my body.

But missionary won’t be enough.

No,

I would need him behind me.
My cheeks will bounce off his pelvis and then clap together.
The clapping sounds will sound like a standing ovation to my ears.
Or that of me being in deep trouble.
The man won’t be mad.
Just overly excited.

My sheets and female region will be a mess.
So will his crotch.
His musky scent will be buried inside of me.
My juicy scent will lace the shaft of his ****.
Permanently.

I could touch myself regularly.
But his touch will be more satisfying.
My wet lips are his
and no other hand or shaft
could ever change that.

-Mia J
8/29/2021

© 2021 Mia J
This poem was composed in 2021
27 · May 17
Melted
Mia J May 17
Chocolate is delicious.

Dark chocolate is arguably the best.
Or should I say, your dark chocolate is the best.
The absolute best.
Shaped like a candy bar with nuts deep inside here and there.
Girth as thick as your forearm and length as long as a Boa Constrictor.
After the first touch,
I needed your dark chocolate.
I tasted it, I licked it, I played with it until my hand grew tired.
My lips became attached at first taste.
Having to pull them away felt like committing a crime.
Such a forbidden act led to more naughty actions.
If tasting you was so wrong, I didn’t deserve to be right.
I wish I could’ve enjoyed my first taste longer.
I remember my mouth being stuffed and filled up with your dark chocolate goodness.

When our bodies became one,
it felt like our dark chocolate floated on a nimbus cloud.
You melted onto me, and I couldn’t fight my need.
Our dark chocolate belonged melted on one another.
My mind stayed focused on you.
You looked at me like my chocolate, every drop of it; was your curvy possession.
Your dark chocolate was warm on top of mine.
It warmed me up and made me whole.
Each stroke was made with lust.
I couldn’t get enough.
And neither could you.
You splashed your chocolate milk to the deepest depths and left nothing unsplash.
I took it like the big girl that I am.

We melt together frequently.
It’s a crime for us to not to.
We’re the perfect pair.
Our bodies deserve to be melted together.
Sending waves of passion and love and lust to each other.

When our chocolate melts, the world stops.
Mother Nature grants us unlimited time to melt
onto each other.

Call me a Nymphomaniac because I am addickted to your dark chocolate.
Real bad.  

-Mia J
5/11/2023

© 2023 Mia J
This poem was composed in 2023
27 · May 18
Cynosure
Mia J May 18
What was it about you that caught my eye?
Maybe it was your gentle smile.
It reminds me of my favorite music video and makes me
perk up each time I see it.
Maybe it was those eyes that looked like the most beautiful blue waterfalls that were created.
I get lost like a stranger in the woods every time I look at them and you.
This isn’t just a physical attraction,
but maybe it should just stay that.
I heard that opposites attract, but I must repel.
It ain’t fair.
No, it ain’t fair at all.
My heart aches when I think about how much my feelings for you hurt.
You’re like my brightest dreams I see at night.
I badly want to become one with the unconscious visions,
but I simply can’t.
I have many years of love stored up in my heart, and if you could be mine,
I’d make you my cynosure.
I’m confident that you would do the same.
Sadly, we’ll only ever do this in my dreams.
2-15-2021
-Mia J

© 2021 Mia J
This poem was composed in 2021

— The End —