#saucy
Seems like
Words are failing
Maybe We should use our mouths
For other things
How about kissing?
Right there
On that part of my naval
As I brush your hair
Maybe I'll let out a little sigh
As you linger there for a while
Look up and smile
Pretty eyes got me gazing
Words may be failing but
There's other ways to speak
Your hands gently trailing
got my body feeling Weak
Self control startin to slip
Better watch my mouth
As I bite your lip
It stings
But not the way words do
No need for censorship
This mouths being used for other things
Maybe to let out a laugh,a little grin
As you make your move
To help me relax and
Leave your mark on my skin
Raising the heat
Got me craving!
Tongues may be wagging
In the morning
But ours are for tasting
So what do you say?
Mmm don't speak.
My hearts racing
Legs shaking
As you play your mouth piece
Sighhhh
And I
Might just have to pull you in tight
Might just have to have you all night
But don't worry
It's our lil secret, I won't say a thing
Words may have failed us
But mouths don't need words
To do wonderous things
;)
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 6:01 PM UTC
"Slay the beast! Salty, sassy and saucy."
-Lindsay the only person who slays better than me
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 10:57 AM UTC
Let me tell you a true story of tragic love;
And you had better believe it, for there's no lie.
'Twas on the Isle of Kos that I met Helga one day,
Sitting in a taverna, sipping an ouzo.
I sat down and we soon exchanged a word or two,
Flirting and teasing 'til the sun sank in the sea.
I suggested a walk on the beach (subtle move)
Which is when I received a nice little surprise.
She stood up in all her glory and then I found
That she was well over a eighteen inches shorter than my humble self,
A genuine short-arse with a prosthetic leg to boot
Which promised me something rather special.
Nothing put out, we ended up in my bedroom
And I shoved my hot tongue right up her angelic ****
"Did you like that?" I enquired (a gent as always)
"It was repulsive," she replied with a slight sneer.
And when we woke up together the next bright morn
I found she had vomited on my bedside jeans,
Before leaving me alone on the encrusted sheets.
Unfortunately the jeans shrunk a bit when I washed the puke out
And their exquisite tightness on my private parts
Reminded me for several days of this amorous encounter.
Was her criticism of my oral skills her unusual Norwegian humour?
Perhaps she really meant to call me her Übermensch?
Maybe it was sarcasm and got lost in translation
So stimulated was she post-orgasmically.
One horrid thought still remains - she might have meant it
(after all, as Nietzsche once said so observantly
"in revenge and in love woman is more barbarous than man.").
And thus I am left with confused memories of that night:
Her face was that of blond angel but her tongue was sharp
And it really was a crying shame about her leg-stump
Which wept slightly.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 5:17 PM UTC