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Matthew Dec 2019
turning her charms so slow.
he smiles,
in the wetness of his reward
cranking and cranking!
winding her in notch after notch
tormenting her to madness.

all her dreams melt into him
as his promised shards hit deep
****** after ******!
his jagged edge cuts to bleed
her mind and body
leading her to a valley of darkness

bellows and cries
relentlessly in her crescent moon
the moans swelling
from the corners of her abyss
he stabs wildly
in the glare of her darkshine

leaving the streaks of fingerprints
across her window pane
devilishly in his detail of precision
distorting her pleasure in pain
the legs of her willingness spread wide

her Innocence weeps nectar
tears from the depths of her
obscene layers of unseen obsession
unfold the heated flower
of her awaken phoenix-fire

tightening the gaps of her resistances
enraging his beast to survival
forcing his fight for freedom
thrashing away
his ***** courage leading the way

she finally surrenders
to his death blows
in total disregard in retaliation
she strikes a venomous bite
to his throat and lips
her poisonous kiss

their last breath shares
perspiration's sweet scent of exhaustion
as their life force drains to one
from their lust of the battle
in their pursuit to win the war of passion
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
At a party, a gym,
anywhere the lighting is dim.
Along the shore, down in the subway,
during an overnight stay.
On Christmas morning,
by the fire where she's warming...

She is the hunted.

Amidst war, conflict, and revolution,
in the confessional during absolution.
For retribution or initiation,
after a movie premiere's celebration.
In the pool, the jacuzzi,
when drugged and woozy...

She is the hunted.

When did the female species
become a personal plaything?
An implicit right of lords, masters, and kings?
A gratification tool to sadists & seducers,
ego-fed athletes, even film producers?

She is the hunted...
in this cathedral of misogyny,
an unholy ground where hands
can never come clean.

At what age, Malusha, did your little boy
become a ******?
Malusha Malkovna was the mother of Vladimir the Great, who in c. 978 infamously ***** Ragnhild, the prince of Polotsk's daughter.
Empire Dec 2019
explicit content


So, here's what you're going to do
Place your hands on my waist
C'mon, dear, like you mean it!

Alright now pull my hips to yours
Yes, that'll do nicely
So I can feel your body against mine
Now, kiss me gently, lovingly
And then again like you need me
Like you lust after me
Like I excite you

Now, pull away and I'll bite my lip
To hold the place of your tongue
Tear my shirt off over my head
Throw it somewhere
Undress me quickly
Show me you need my body

And together we'll fall on the mattress
Where we entangle ourselves in lust
Mmm.... darling you excite me
And clearly I you...

Now ******* thrill me.

I'll put you on your back
Lie flat and let me take you!
I'll have you now
Fingers trace your v-line down...
Wrap myself around you
As we're both hit with pleasure

Our bodies scream for more
As I tease you from above

Oh, but you won't have that, will you?
No, what a powerful man
Take over
I'll surrender

If you make me

Throw me aside and make me your slave
Touch anything you like
I'm yours tonight
Let me feel the strength in your arms... in your hips
Tell me you CRAVE more of me
Be cruel, be kind
Set me on fire with bliss
Darling, more!

Yes... yes there... right there.... that's it now...
Yes... a bit more... go on...
MORE!

then it hits.
the rush.
the flood.
and as it fades I'll scream for you to do it again!
let's get it back, shall we?
mm... yes... yes that's it, dear...
keep giving me that...
make me your woman.
Found I had a bit of ****** energy that needing releasing...
Mitch Prax Dec 2019
Let our tongues
be our swords and
our words as arrows.
Let us duel,
blood for blood
and nothing less.
It's been a few days.
Just when I thought I was getting better,
Another of my broken pieces crumbled.
Out for a drink, this seems to be a routine.
I'm with a new crowd tonight.
It has been fun all around,
I managed to escape the bad things in my head,
Even just for a couple of hours, it's a relief.
It's 1 am, I've been drinking since 5 pm.
Time to go home, we booked a ride and filed inside.
An hour ride, it's too long.
My sobriety already creeping in,
I need a new buzz before I turn in.
Then I felt his hands on my legs.
Slowly inching up, caressing its way in.
I instantly froze, my mind went blank,
My body numb.
He turned my head towards him,
And he reached in for a quick peck on my lips.
I just sat there, frozen with terror.
Suddenly I'm twelve again.
Pushing my uncle off of me.
Suddenly I am transported to my bedroom 16 years prior.
Willing myself to die, while gagging on my uncle's tongue.
He is no longer him, he is my uncle,
I can smell his sweat, the ***** in his mouth, his cigarette breath.
And I am twelve again.
I just continued sitting there on that car,
Frozen, paralyzed by fear and terror,
As he caressed my body more freely now,
My silence, an invitation,
I am his and I am gone.
I have once again retreated in my head,
Surrounding myself with my blanky,
Holding on to my favorite doll.
I am twelve again,
And will be enduring another ten years of this.
Laiba Nov 2019
To the monster under my bed
I know your not real
So leave me alone
And let me sleep
Just one minute in peace
Monster is my dad he haunts me every night
Matthew Nov 2019
What do you want, from me 
do you want me, to whisper,
from the clouds, like ***** rain.
Matthew Nov 2019
I want the moon
to be ours 
Not Yours Not Mine
in lunar madness we orbit
horizontal to the dark side
full on the mouth
in half dressed lust 
quartered in love shivers 
le soleil I'm your sun
burning masculine
la lune your my sultry luna
dripping female form
night lighting
breaming 
electric snow
basking amour 
Not Mine Not Yours 
under
Our Moon
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
You're quite the trickster,
With tall pair of gin and tonic.

Shall we dance a set or two,
Before you assail me
In the dark, with objects
Stowed away in your
Glove compartment?

I promise to walk into walls,
Become pliable in your arms.

You even have my word,
I'll lose control of all
My faculties right about
The time you begin ******* me.

And I will wake up
In the morning,
With no memory
And no underwear.

You can then move
Carefree, on to your
Next hapless victim.

While I merrily go about
My day in the numbed womb's
Afterbirth of that last sentence.

Forever to ***** at
Flesh and membrane.

Sincerely quiet,
Candace
According to some statistics, only 42% of ****** assault victims report it to the police. The vast majority worry about being blamed for the crime. For every 1,000 cases of ****, only 6 will spend time in jail.
CandidlySubtle Nov 2019
I’m swimming in a sea of warmth,
Waves that rub along my skin like silk,
Each wave a push and pull,
Of muscles being massaged,
Relaxing and softening,
With each wave that splashes,
Sends tingles vibrating through,
They rush through as I gasp for air,
And I breathe into this sea of warmth,
And I taste all of its salt,
Prickling and tickling my tongue,
And with one final wave,
I disappear and surrender into this sea of warmth.
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