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My palms glide down your spine
Smooth skin meets sandpaper
As your back tapers into your ***
Sensual or ****** or sanative
It makes no difference to me

Every inch slipping downwards,
The primal urge to please
To elicit a passionate sigh
Sensual or ****** or sanative
It makes no difference to me
dead poet Dec 2024
i snort the pillow;
lick shampoo off her hair strands;
she’s on to witchcraft.
Vi Dec 2024
Like an eager painter
I’ve splashed red across the milky white
Deeper in the center pinker as it trails out,
She loves the way the leather brushes her canvas
Stinging swashes and caressing strokes,
Her smile rings of joy where the moans cry out in pain.

There’s a twinkle in her eyes
Smallest pellet of tears working
Simultaneous with the pooling drenching tight clad cotton
I can smell Dior mixed with her sweet nectar,
Tickling the nose just over the bristles of my rough stache
And I return to my canvas, another broad swash,
Another clapping slap of skin to hide;
Echoed sounds reverb in stereo back tracked by the sweetest cry


“Please” isn’t a need
And barely a beg,
Show me with the wiggling of hips
Tease me with slight arches
Waft your *** to tremble my senses
Make. Me. Lose. Control.

She pants, heavy breaths
Shallow, quick - needing
The brain is in a fog - a haze
One tracked, foaming at the tongue
Drooling down her chin,
Flush ruby rose cheeks -
She’s fiending like an addict
Out of control convulsions when the brush tickles the warmth of wounds
She’s swooning with her body, slithering in silk sheets like a snake in sand

“Come for me”
I command it, not ask for it
I demand it, not suggest.
My fingers press against the fabric
And with one swift grip the cotton fails
Ripping from the wetted seams and drenched middle
Honey sticking to glistened flower petal lips
Looking like spider webs caught in rain.
How pink and perfect, dribbling uncontrollably-
She is ready.

I enter an index and *******
Folds gliding and inviting first and second knuckles in,
Curling down pressing towards the belly,
Opening and curling, come hither, follow directions
Make me happy, make me proud.
Make. Me. Lose. Control.

It doesn’t take much
The build was effective,
Her body was quaking for release
And as her body shivers and shakes
Her screams go hoarse,
Eyes roll back and sight nearly goes black,
Her core contracting like doing sit-ups at lightning speed
Her leather cuffed hands grasping sheets
We have reached the crescendo

And after the crash and clash
After the waves have passed,
A silent bemoaning remained.

“PlEaSe….”

And then I lost control…
dead poet Dec 2024
i knocked on
your door,
you opened with
a smile;
you knocked
on mine,
i returned
the favour;
the building was empty -
or at least,
the people living in it.
you were different,
though -
you were full of
little surprises.  
you were gentle -
like your touches;
and your kisses;
and your movements;
and my solitude:
of which -
you stripped me,
with your movements;
your kisses;
and your touches;
you shook me,
to say the least.
i was a sick man -
literally, and otherwise:
and it rubbed off
on you, a bit.
yet, you leaned on me;
pressed me;
cupped me;
grazed your lips
against the wet corner
of mine -
swooning;
drooling;
licking;
me choking on
cigarette smoke.
you choking -
every now and then.
you sick freak!
your uffs…
your aahs…
your mmms…
your every breath.
i loved you -
more than anything
in the world
in that moment;
that exquisite moment.
my eyes flickering;
my heart pounding;
my silence, silencing.
it was just right;
you were enough,
in that moment,
and all that
was you -

and then,
you left.
Taÿpen Dec 2024
She don’t have to say a word
Her body gives me all the signals
It’s more than a stop and go
When my hands are cruising down her skin
She knows how to speed up my heart rate
When she’s wining pon me
Our bodies sing the sweetest melody
We go to the point of no return
Where our passions burn.
Pre-dawn's breath stirs, a sweet, gentle sigh,
A crescent moon hangs low and near.
Grass welcomes me, cool, soft, and deep,
The world feels hushed, in a peaceful sigh,
Dew-kissed and fragrant, a chill I bear,
A secret song the shadows keep.

Night wind, I pray — bring love to me,
A warmth to chase away the chill.
Through rustling leaves and swaying trees,
With whispers soft, caress, set free.
Let time stand still, and my heart be still,
Lost in your bliss, just you and me.

A sky of stars, a million eyes,
Each spark a story yet untold.
I bare my soul, my longing plea,
The summer leaves in rhythm rise,
Their rustling song, a sight to behold,
A symphony just for me.

Morning dew, like diamonds gleam,
Each drop a promise, pure and free.
The breeze, a touch upon my face,
It swirls and dances, a lover's dream,
Your gentle touch, a sweet memory,
A memory I can't replace.

Oh, wind, you've seen my life unfold,
You've touched me with your gentle care.
Yet still, I yearn for you to be,
A lone star shines, a story told,
A wish I whisper in the air,
For night to bring you back to me.

The eastern glow, a dream's goodbye,
A tear escapes; the day's begun.
But hope remains, a flickering spark.
Tomorrow's dawn, beneath the sky,
My arms still open, waiting, won
By night wind's promise in the dark.

Night wind, I pray, a lover send to me,
Our souls entwined, let time stand still.
Boundless in love, so wild and free,
Through starry skies and galaxies,
Let longing fade; our hearts be filled,
Lost in this bliss, just you and me.
lola Dec 2024
Unravel me—open, bare,
A ball of yarn resting in your lap.
Your fingers move with purpose, finding my knots,
Lingering on my curves,
tugging gently at my loops.

You untangle me slowly,
Thread by thread, red string pooling beneath you.
See me as i am—
Whole, unguarded,
Freed from the weight of my knots.

Open for you,
Soft, exposed,
Yours to hold,
Yours to keep.
Unravel me
Styles Dec 2024
A devilish grin, that naughty tease,
Dark hair falls wild, blue eyes that seize.
Spoiled, untamed, with a playful bite,
Tattoos of black and blue ignite.

White stockings climb to knee-high heels,
Thighs part wide, the tension feels.
A deep breath, eyes filled with fire,
Long strokes feeding raw desire.

Nail marks, crimson, trail her skin,
Moving slow, she begs again.
Silent screams, her voice held tight,
Handcuffs click, surrender’s right.

Her hair pulled back, legs wrapped in heat,
Open wide, she can't retreat.
A firm grip on her trembling hips,
Toes curl with every teasing slip.

A slick, smooth glide, bodies collide,
Deep thrusts make the headboard slide.
She gasps, she moans, craving more,
Screaming, "Please... come inside, I’m yours."
Styles Dec 2024
I teased her gently, through soft lace,
Heard her growing, breath in chase.
My fingers glided, slow, deliberate,
Finding her warmth, our need, intimate.

She bit her lip, her body tight,
Responding to each bite,
the slower I went, her **** I found.
Circling slow, then spiraling ‘round.

Her pleasure surged, her body shook,
And when she came, I'll never forget the look
But I held firm, fingers deep,
Her body trembled, no words to speak.

"You're everything," she whispered low,
Eyes closed, a softened glow.
Her hands now full of me, a delicate stroke,
Building heat, the air felt full, my body felt woke.

She stroked me slow, then urged for more,
Until I gasped, a wild roar.
We shuddered close, bodies entwined,
Lost in the rhythm, souls aligned.

The world around us blurred away,
In this moment, we chose to stay.
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