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 Apr 2014
Thia Jones
i felt Your beast stir
He called to the *****
the **** who lies within
and she answered Him
with whispered seductions
coaxing Him from His lair
filled with longing for Him
to emerge and sport with her
spreading herself wantonly
craving to be taken, devoured
eaten up and filled
made a plaything, consumed

the ***** inside me needs to see
the beast in You set free
her freedom to exist is in His gift alone
her purpose to rise to meet His lust
to take His stripes as her own
and bear them with pride
the beast in You will find release
inside the ***** who lives in me

Cynthia Pauline Jones 17/01/14
Written for someone who turned out to be wholly undeserving. But at least the illusion inspired something more lasting.
 Apr 2014
Thia Jones
Sometimes it's all about the ***
though mostly it isn't.

Sometimes it's about the play,
about enjoying the effect
that I have on another
or, less so recently,
about seeking to please
and enjoying whatever is given.

Sometimes it's about wanting
to hold and be held in return
to feel the love
and the connection
and the closeness
and that warmth inside.

Sometimes play isn't enough
when it ignites my desire
and frustration strains the pleasure
sometimes holding someone
isn't enough either
when the warmth turns to heat.

So sometimes it becomes
all about the ***
and yet that's so elusive
when my attentions are unwanted
or I find my desire
impossible to express.

Sometimes I feel in need
yet nobody picks that up
none come forward to ask
to writhe with me, entwined
to seek mutual fulfillment
of a shared lust.

Sometimes it's not about the ***
because that's not on the menu.

Cynthia Pauline Jones, Aug 2013
 Apr 2014
Thia Jones
This is how it goes
your hands will be proxy for mine
my hands will be proxy for yours
your fingers my fingers
and my fingers yours
what I describe, you enact
told in detail so exact

Just to begin
I squeeze your *******
knead and pinch
tweak a ******
give it a tug

Stroke your tummy
work over your thighs
move up the inner
where skin is smooth
circle around, moving in
till soft contours are caressed
through pants that burn
to be removed
that pain you to wear
and I see in my mind
as you describe
the spreading, darkening patch
that fills the gusset

Now they're pulled down
removed quickly, completely
and you are revealed
spread, opened, shameless

Gentle fingertips tease
dance in circles, barely touching
yet the fire within grows
back and forth, round and round
dance the fingertips
as both reciprocate
with growing pace
and firmer touch

I hear you gasp down the line
and your breathing quickens
as you hear mine
as your excitement fuels mine
as mine fuels yours
in our feedback loop of lust

And I tell you how
my fingertip would give way
to tonguetip if I could
that I can taste you
in my imagination
fragrant, salty sweetness
with musky undertones
the tip of my tongue now circling
then flicking back and forth
beating out the rhythm
that you best harmonise with
bringing forth your moans

Then darting down, back
between wet, glistening folds
exploring each ridge and valley
working remorselessly

Breathing faster now
with animal grunts and moans
directions of pleasure gasped
breathless down the phone

As fingers again
take the lead
find the opening
slip readily within
probe, explore, ****
find that place
on your front wall
yes, just that spot
that's a little rougher
and feels sooo goood

Add a second finger
working and *******
licking and rubbing
moaning and gasping
barely intelligible now
...yess...more...yess...ohhh
are all that have meaning

Finger three joins one and two
then the pressure builds
demanding release
and shaking and thrusting
grows to shuddering
and...yes...yesss...sooo clooose

******* faster furiously
till we both explode
hearing each other's
voicing of our ecstasy
in language intelligible
only in this one context

Brains and voices return
as we bask in the afterglow
and what passes between us then
in those moments
is the deepest intimacy of all

Cynthia Pauline Jones 01/02/2014
 Apr 2014
Thia Jones
I can be a sadist
I can be a ****
I enjoy a bit of pain
I'm often filled with lust

I want to be the Top
and to be topped too
I'd love to tie you up
or to be tied by you

Push the right button
and I'll be your subby
or grant to me control
I may lock you in the cubby

Stick me full of needles
or I'll put some in you
zap me with electricity
I may pass the current through

Whip me, flog me, spank me
I too can you impact
I'm happy to do whatever
and that's a ***** fact

I can be anything for anyone
pretty much more or less
it all depends on circumstance
and on what you confess

So let's stop prevaricating
and get on with the fun
let me know where and when
and which way round you run

Cynthia Pauline Jones 25/10/13
 Apr 2014
Thia Jones
Diving into the darkness
surfing through the void
life without a safety net
no parachute, no ripcord

Letting go of everything
no limits, no taboos
just merging of identities
no more me's or you's

Following the dynamic
breaking all the rules
learning to transcend
what makes humans fools

Pain and degradation
is my path, my destiny
I might lead or follow you
until we are both free

So take my hand
we'll make that leap
we'll cross the line
there's no return, but that's fine

Cynthia Pauline Jones 15/02/2014
 Apr 2014
Thia Jones
You appeared in the room
I noticed you, felt something bloom
you sat near me
we talked
my interest grew
you blushed
my heart flew
my brain turned to mush
insides flipped to goo
I fell so hard
yet what could I say to you
when there were so many pitfalls
so much that might go wrong
so hard to read your feelings
and what anyway
did I want to say
what was this that I felt
what had I glimpsed
the need in you?
the need in me?
recognition of something beyond?
Lust? Yes, that was there
and why should it not be
when so many boxes
were ticked for me?
When it's clear that I'm far from alone
in this attraction to which I'm prone
but then, with so long without
I had long grown to doubt
that I could ever state
my expressions of desire
or to say I'd like to play
with someone who lit my fire
and there's the catch
to make a match
there must be a connection
and yet that connection's the thing
that has the power to make me flinch
and in the past I may have drawn away
said nothing, not made my play
but I felt this so strong
that I had to go along
at first so tentatively
while I tried to probe
to find what you thought of me
then, somewhere along the way
my inner sadist awoke
I longed yet more to play
then all too briefly it seemed possible
that despite all the reasons I'd imagined
for why nothing could happen,
that something, after all, would develop
and I couldn't help but express
just how pleased that made me feel
yet I waxed too enthusiastic
gave the wrong impression
and a reason I had never imagined
arose to **** the mood
the wires, so carefully disentangled
crossed themselves once more
my new found pride lay mangled
broken, trampled on the floor
I sought for answers
but harvested anger
and to my shame
responded the same
yet I am responsible
I am to blame
you may have caught
the wrong end of the stick
but that was due
to how I presented it to you
and I offer my apologies
to admit that in part
your fears were justified
it's true I'd thought ahead
had dreamed that I
might help you fly
that I might take you to that place
where others would fear to try
yet that's not the whole story
it's also true that the trip to the edge
happens one step at a time
and that the very first one was
at the forefront of my mind
and had that turned out mediocre
so that we'd wanted no more
then that would have been all of it
at least we'd both have known
but had it been fantastic
had it been amazing
had it blown our minds
ready or not would be meaningless
and that's what terrifies
and what terrifies entices too
and therein lies the tension
so to disclose I have to mention
that though I shall not cross
the lines you draw
part of me wants to ignore
that they're there at all,
wants to take you and make you fall
at my feet and beg for more
and when I saw you'd cut your hair
I was torn between thinking
how handsome you looked
and feeling it was a cause for regret
that you no longer had enough
to wrap round my fist
and I wonder if your walls are there
to protect you, or to challenge me to dare
to plunge on through and break them down
and even though I've made other connections
have played, will play elsewhere
even though there's one
feels deep and special and true
this tension has me addicted
I feel the pull of you
please don't be alarmed
I mean you no harm
well, not of the lasting kind
I'm aware of the potential
for the tension to consume
to pull into a downward spin
but I won't allow that to happen
and I say these things
not to make demands
not to influence
or force your hand
but just so you know
if you didn't already
that you can break the tension
whenever you're ready
unless it dissipates before that point
of it's own accord
or through distraction
and however this turns out for us
my wish remains that you should fly
no matter whose hand that happens by

Cynthia Pauline Jones, April 2013
This was written for someone who sparked an instant attraction in me and who I thought for a brief period might replace my Muse. It didn't work out, but I wrote this by way of letting go.

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