"bated" poems - Hello Poetry

***Crossing the room in slow motion She watches his muscles move in the moonlight Oh how they glisten in anticipation Sit my pet, in a whisper At her feet he waits with bated breath So pleased at his obedience Proceed Such a simple command He inches closer His eagerness evident in his silence In his omission of a proper response An outfaced palm and he stops short Sitting back on his feet, hands in lap, eyes to the floor I'm sorry Ma'am, he says That is evident by his failure to respond He knows what is coming Grabbing the back of his hair she forces his eyes to hers Position, she says disgustedly She leans back in the armchair as he pulls her hips to the edge He lifts one leg and gently places it over the arm Then he positions the other in the same manner Sitting back on his feet, facing the floor His arousal is evident, as is his moist anticipation Respire. The word is grunted through gritted teeth He leans into heaven Hovering an inch away Slow deep breaths He breathes in her essence wanting nothing more Than to bridge the gap with his tongue White satin and peekaboo lace She runs down the rules of his punishment Will you touch the Goddess No Ma'am Will you drool on the Goddess No Ma'am Will you move without permission No Ma'am How long will you hold your position As long as my Goddess sees fit...Ma'am Good boy His breath is slow, deliberate, and heavy The heat of it permeates the thin fabric She runs her hand over the object of desire Accentuating the outlines of what lies beneath An accidental whimper Silence! A gruff command Followed implicitly In a slow and graceful motion A hand slips under the fabric Opening her flower releasing a hint of nectar The scent grows exponentially upon the unfurling of petals A glistening finger touches him just above his lip Is that what you want? It's a rhetorical question Yes please What will you do to get it Such a simple question with but one answer Anything you please, Goddess Stick out your tongue He does so in silence, careful that he does not touch her She uses his wet flesh to wipe her finger clean Closer she whispers Now, within a half inch he breathes her in deeply Mesmerized by the dewy goodness held behind the smooth satin Watching desire grow in painfully slow motion He blows out on the growing dampness As he waits for her next command***

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Jul 2, 2015

Jul 2, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC

prttybrd

Rules of Engagement

***Crossing the room in slow motion She watches his muscles move in the moonlight Oh how they glisten in anticipation Sit my pet, in a whisper At her feet he waits with bated breath So pleased at his obedience Proceed Such a simple command He inches closer His eagerness evident in his silence In his omission of a proper response An outfaced palm and he stops short Sitting back on his feet, hands in lap, eyes to the floor I'm sorry Ma'am, he says That is evident by his failure to respond He knows what is coming Grabbing the back of his hair she forces his eyes to hers Position, she says disgustedly She leans back in the armchair as he pulls her hips to the edge He lifts one leg and gently places it over the arm Then he positions the other in the same manner Sitting back on his feet, facing the floor His arousal is evident, as is his moist anticipation Respire. The word is grunted through gritted teeth He leans into heaven Hovering an inch away Slow deep breaths He breathes in her essence wanting nothing more Than to bridge the gap with his tongue White satin and peekaboo lace She runs down the rules of his punishment Will you touch the Goddess No Ma'am Will you drool on the Goddess No Ma'am Will you move without permission No Ma'am How long will you hold your position As long as my Goddess sees fit...Ma'am Good boy His breath is slow, deliberate, and heavy The heat of it permeates the thin fabric She runs her hand over the object of desire Accentuating the outlines of what lies beneath An accidental whimper Silence! A gruff command Followed implicitly In a slow and graceful motion A hand slips under the fabric Opening her flower releasing a hint of nectar The scent grows exponentially upon the unfurling of petals A glistening finger touches him just above his lip Is that what you want? It's a rhetorical question Yes please What will you do to get it Such a simple question with but one answer Anything you please, Goddess Stick out your tongue He does so in silence, careful that he does not touch her She uses his wet flesh to wipe her finger clean Closer she whispers Now, within a half inch he breathes her in deeply Mesmerized by the dewy goodness held behind the smooth satin Watching desire grow in painfully slow motion He blows out on the growing dampness As he waits for her next command***