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Shadowhollow Jul 22
Come stroke my hair
With lines of poetry
That you wrote for me
For my hair hasn’t been stroked
In a while ....
Darryl M May 9
How she pushes him away till she latches on for the kiss,
How she shies away from his touch,
How she tenses up till his fingers scale her inner thighs,
How she resists till she spreads.

She enjoys talks about her,
But mum to the response.
She enjoys applause of her petite body,
But deaf to the reaction.

Her thighs, pillars of a sanctuary.
Feel free, as I lock you in deep pleasure.

Do you love it as I go down?
I can see it in your eyes rolling over,
Your face changing color,
*** babe ***.
Titled by: Q.N. Thabethe
Completed: 27th September 2018 [18:30 PM]
Keep me sprung
Darryl M May 9
Satisfaction be the aim,
Gratification of bodies leaking desire.
Let’s indulge in ourselves.
I ain’t a thief, but I’ll take it from the back.

Speed bumps of Pleasure,
I’d love to see your body vibrate as I’m in it.

Try slowly putting your finger in your ear,
Now imagine the feeling being greater
with me as the influence of the sensation.

Like a lingerie on a strip tease,
Let me be your drug so I can take you to my world.
Ecstasy, a man not afraid of arousal.
Don’t repeat, won’t repeat,
Pardon my desires,
You are my arousal.

I bear the desire,
Would you mind if I acted upon it?
It’s a destination that I need to reach,
But would you be my ride or my path?
You know what?
Just be both!
Author: Darryl_M & Sphephelo Buthelezi
Completed: 02nd September 2018 [16:00 PM]
Speed bumps of Pleasure
Darryl M May 9
Skin on skin,
Flesh to flesh,
Lip to lip,
Is how deep in contact I want to be with you.

Blood rushes down my veins,
Sensation burning through my skin,
Curiosity hits me in the ear,
Unto an echo of passion, I listen,
Hisses of great pleasure.

It’s my request,
and the lady’s sober decision.
That way I know you’re enjoying the ritual,
Coz ****** pleasure is about the girl vs the sensation.
No hearts being played.

I’m sorry on being too real.
Dipped in emotions is obligation,
Obligation, I hate,
Not that a lady is a *** advert.

Allow me to be the guy that disrupts your views,
I ain’t aiming for similarity,
Just being an absurd mark on your body.

Not every sleepover is about ***,
Not all *** is about *******.
Completed: 19th August 2018 [14:00 PM]
Darryl M May 9
Your belly on the pillow,
My manhood in between the two clouds,
Scattered are the skies.
A feeling of heat,
Any man would ever want.

The silence,
Then the little moans,
Don’t forget your squirts.
Loss of control in my body,
I just need to be inside you.
Remain for a while,
Turn your ***** into my campsite.

I’m stroking in and out,
Just to be in, again.

When I map you with my tongue,
Travel my back with your finger prints,
Tha Sweet Sensation.
Allow me to pull you to the edge,
Let your **** eyes merge with mine.

Here we go again,
Your tongue on my lips.
Author(s): Darryl_M & Sphephelo Buthelezi
Completed: 16th July 2018 [18:48 PM]
Shofi Ahmed Apr 17
Turn the sea upside down
Love can do it.

Light the night with warmth
Love can do it.

Move the mountain with a stroke
Love can do it.

Fill the storm with soothing music
Only love can do it!
Shofi Ahmed Mar 28
Anyone with a stroke of luck
can be a king or queen on earth!
Why there can’t be a lucky paradise?
annh Dec 2018
At least you knew who I was
And managed a smile
There was comfort in that
For both of us

But you didn’t know my name
You have always known my name
You have always been my mother
Now, it seems, I am yours

There is no comfort in that
For either of us
Poetic T Dec 2018
Only a weak man would intrude
                    on virtues of another.
For a strong man knows that within him
                 is the virtues of a woman's birth.  

And with out them, he would be nothing.
            Those that intrude on the innocence,  
         have a weakness not of man
but of value and are neither of morality or humanity.

But the sinking ventures of humanities folly.
                For all of creations bindings are
                                but a creation of before.

And even those that are  pure some are always
                              damaged to the point of sorrow.
Never guise all under one brush,  
   because each is a different stroke.

And some are just not meant to be allowed
                                                   to paint a canvass.
          let alone a memory upon another's ever
                                                changing innocence.
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