I'm a poet,
You don't know it
I stay up writing...
My experience
It's kind of morbid
Lots of things have happened...
You'd be furious,
If you knew
Every thing you've done to me
Has been published...
My blog's my news.
Every bad day,
Every good thing,
has its own place...
In my station, Online.
Since I was fourteen
I've been taunting, you.

There are symmetries in nature
created for deeper purposes.
They delight, tease and inflame us
- oh, nature is diabolical.

I could write erotica
Words flushed with heat
And lust
A bare trace of plot
Sliding through the lines
like soft skin on silk sheets.

I could paint pictures
with sultry poses,
long limbs entwined in a battle of flesh,
pictures to bring a tingle,
a shiver dancing across your skin.

I could whisper salacious stories
with my lips just above your ear,
hot breath and a teasing lilt,
testing the boundaries of self-control.

I could pass along this poem,
lay forth my cards,
exposed provocatively on the table,
making my intentions known.

I sipped my wine at the dinner table.

"Honey, please pass me the salt."
I looked up to see her staring back at me,
her eyes glistening in the candle light that burned ablaze.
The joy consuming the fire in her soul,
driving her with lustful intentions of passion and excitement.

I ate my meal at the dinner table,

"Honey, please pour me some wine."
I removed the cork with a 'pop' sound,
that echoed in the quiet room space.
Looking over at her now,
her voluptuous  lips chapped from dehydration.
I handed her a glass of wine and watched as she took a sip.
Her lips dampened now,
a burgundy color stained upon her lips;
I could almost taste her sweet kisses from hither
as she teased me with a smirk of pleasure.

I devoured my dessert at the dinner table.

"Honey, please bring  me some pudding."
I put down my spoon and reached for the bowl placed
in the center of the table that divided her and I.
I extended my hand to reach for the spoon,
but she stood up quite slowly and leisurely made her way round the dining room table;
her left hand index finger lightly caressing the table-top
as she walked around to meet me.

I found her to be standing right on-top of me.
My mind racing.
My heart palpitating.

She grabbed me by my inner thigh and massaged my neck
seductively,
moving in closer her eyes centralized my lips,
her body prepelling its way towards my cornered space.

She bites her lip and thrusts inwards on me now,
Oh darling, whisper sweet things into my ear drums now.

"***.", She said, spoken so gently.

"Alright", I said.
but before I left,

I sipped my wine at the dinner table.

...my head back into the pillow.
She quickly straddled me.
She began a gentle rocking motion
with her hips,
with subtle glee.
Her thick, precious long hair,
hung down like curtains of night,
around my lust-flushed face,
until I was in perfect darkness right.
She then began caressing
my nakedness with her feathery-locks,
along my silky, trembling body,
from up my heavenly hips,
my tight, tender, heaving tummy,
my aching, stiff-nippled *******,
my entire being erupting in goosebumps,
chilly and blazing,
spicey and tasty,
aching and burning,
burning,
burning -******!
begging for quenching,
which she does
quickly
and
I'm done.