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brandon nagley Jun 2015
Eerie creeps
Masculine freaks
Femininities left
Masculinity's taken over
To masculine
To much
Man forgot wife
Man lost touch
Man lost children
Video games are his friend
Beer is his lover
Shalt face his own end
Man hast forgotten
Man hast turned dumbed
Man better listen
To these words
I do hum!!!!
Debra A Baugh Feb 2013
Sweet whispers against
thighs opening

baring taut affluent ***,
a pleasurable tremor
rises without touch

his mouth eagerly finds
femininities universe

libidinous tongue...

affinity begs, arched
in ecstasies moan

an amorous plait woven
in a pulsating knot

as we're completely undone

my universe succor
Debra A Baugh Jan 2013
I met him at an audition; he kept staring at me,
I walked over introduced myself; he said he's
a musician, told him I could help with is dickion
and he whispered; I want to sip the fluency of your
elegance, in which, I smiled all giddy inside; pulled
him close and said are you wanting to luxuriate in
lips pout, he said; yes and his eyes engraved me
in his soul

he stepped back; licked my lips and flushed,
embraced love's fidgeting, bestirred in gasped
hunger he held me like a lover in a dream;
clinging to the edge of silent beggary's urgency,
I touched his heat, knew immediately I wanted
him pendulating above femininities heat

so, I coaxed him with an aubade; whispering moist
in want; his euphony he'd written upon parchment
of my heart, without thought I wanted to give in to
masculinities desire to taste and sip as he pleased

but, I held him off for awhile wanting to get to know
more of him, not wanting just a physical allurement,
eyeing him in my mind to take in the scope of his
aura; weeks passed before I would allow him to do
more than just kiss me, the physical attraction was
too strong to wait for entanglements pleasure, the
want to linger in the delicacy of us; on one of those
misty balmy still of night's; I just grasped at passion's
threshold; to drown in our muted moans

as he'd explore pout of silken lips; tasting me
as I'd taste him we savored each other's hunger
taking our time, enjoying each nook and cranny of
him and I, tongue traced my trembles from its
eruptive point between wet thighs; I  had to flip our
script so, I could taste his milky spillage as well; like
fingerprints upon thigh, we glided in out, back and
front of our hungered want of one another; sighing
in unison laying paused and breathless, our rhythm
leaves us arched in each other's curve, tasting;
losing control

frenzied, breathless in softness of sigh's every
stroke of ecstasy, lost in the rapture of love; each
kiss from head to toe told a story of love lust and
hunger, hopefully for eternity; as the days grew long
and nights got shorter, we couldn't do without one
another; one day out of the blue he popped the
question and without a doubt I said; yes!
just a short story for a contest...
Debra A Baugh Jan 2013
A quivered sigh lingers upon her
soft lips; she glimpses beggary
bestirred sweetly in my misty eyes,
my fingers dawdle at her dewy fissure;
waiting in trembled anticipation, a want
to taste her delicacy with a kiss of breath

caught up in licks of consumption, I'm
beguiled by femininities passion; elicited
sultry moans dance across my *****
making my heart race and soul shutter
losing control

her tongue tip traces each vein pulsing,
awaiting warmth to engulf its entirety, slick
and wet tip to pearls she rocks my world
morning noon and night

in out of wetness I scream in delight, suckling
each mound wet and light in nibbled bites; ****
this woman fits me just right, can't keep my eyes
hands off her as she clenches firmness *******
me deeper in her abyss wet and tight
Debra A Baugh Feb 2013
left alone with him, he undressed my mind;
bathing me in sweet acronyms,
traced upon curve in calligraphy
while whispering in prose our dreams

and...

he'd dip his quill; inking upon my skin,
noun's and verb's I'd absorb into my heart

then...

my poet, whispers again sweeping
me off my feet in syllabic count;
taking control of all my senses

while...

arching into masculinity his muse
would run wild against femininities
curvaceousness

wet...

lips began to taste his own poetic
prowess upon the breadth of me
and I'd simply smile into him

knowing...

his poetry is written solely for me and
I'd glide tongue across his lips like ink
against parchment

— The End —