Smack
After every slap
And stroke.
the whip,
cracks across your back.
Flush with arousal,
Immense pleasure,
your body reacts.
your lesson reaching you
teaching you how to relax
As your legs spread,
your mind relapses.

sometimes you talk such ***** **** that even a seasoned pro in ***** talk
(such as myself)
is left with nothing more than a giggle
a sharp intake of breath
and a swimming head like I just drank a bottle of champagne
sometimes your words
make me rage with need and hunger
even more than your body does
sometimes I lean against my kitchen counter
that you ****** me against
when we forgot to make it to my big soft bed
and listen to you tell me
how you want to hurt me
come closer baby
bite me until you really taste me
leave my lips swollen and red
leave my hips bruised and aching
I want to see little constellations in my flesh
from
you

In the still of the night
A sound comes through the walls;
It is the sound of a mouse
Singing of its own death.

You watch me from the bed
Where we have shared love's passion,
Your hair glistens in the morning light
O how I love you, my dearest.

My gorgeous form weaves its way
Gracefully across the room;
Then I throw the curtains back
On this bright April morning.

Let the Spring sunlight enter
And more fully illuminate
The next daring stage in our
Enticing ******* adventures.

Dazzled for a brief moment
By the brilliant solar rays,
You hear a rustling noise:
Precursor of new ****** delight.

I am wiping my well-toned bottom
After crapping on your carpet;
An enormous steaming mound awaits
To stimulate your ****** taste buds.

Who am I, the lovely Edna -
Is my lovely name a misnomer then?
I am myself though, yet a true Sweetlove.
What'€™s a Sweetlove? It'€™s neither hand, nor foot,
Nor toe, nor any other naughtier part
Belonging to a being, sweet as moi.
What'€™s in a name? That which we call a ****
By any other name would smell as great;
And so Edna would (were she not Edna called
But maybe Deidre or Albert Buttocks),
Retain that wondrous odour which she owns
Without the lovely Edna Sweetlove name.
Thus the word **** which is no intrinsic
Part of me is but a blow-off of wind.

You are
The reason I cry
The reason I laugh
The reason I smile
The reason I frown.

You are
The reason
I feel this dread
And this utter happiness.

You are the reason
My heart beats
Just a little faster
And the reason
It stops.

And for many other reasons unknown but you,
You
Are the reason I love.