Janette Aug 2012

Where he calls me...sultry
I am
A silken storm of want
Naked,
In the blush of moon...



Night falls long,
Humid, in the heat of ache
“I want you”
Rushes over me in droplets of
Caress...




His voice
A  pour
Creamy smooth
A slip-slide down
My throat...



His dark touch
Awakened
Beneath my starve,
Craving the sip,
Drowned in swallow...



Thrumming trembles
The quench of thirst
Beneath the swelling tide
Melted
Under silken tongue...



Slipping deeply into wetness
Pulsing raw
Lust surges strings of silk
Primitive and wild...


Where he calls me...sultry
I am......

Paul M Chafer Sep 2014

So deliciously dark,
The sultry taste of pure lust,
Lingering upon my wet tongue; so hot!
I smile, lapping up your slinky essence,
Writhing, twisting, arching, resisting,
Attempting to deny my devilish charm,
Hiding behind flimsy veils of innocence.
Only, I know, deep inside, you burn,
No chains, or bonds, could ever hold you,
Knowing you want me, so very much.
Parting your hastily erected defences,
I snatch you up; we plunge into the fire,
As one, the flames consume, seared raw,
Forging an emotional alloy, thrashed out,
Hammered upon the anvil of sheer pleasure,
Quivering, breathless, enraptured and blissful,
Again and again, leaving us both sated,
Still tasting of sultry lust,
So deliciously dark.

©Paul M Chafer 2014

Devin Lawrence Oct 2015

Head
tilted to the side.
She blushes;
She's clay to the touch,
Flesh to the mind.

My fingers,
like passengers aboard the Santa Maria,
explore a new world-
Every inch,
Every crevice,
Every curve;

She's the Venus de Milo-
Timeless.
Classic.

Delicate
like a ribbon
fluttering downward,
pulled from her hair
by lover's passion.

Her breasts are molded-
islands along the ocean I swim-
and an art form is born;
The simple movements:
Up,
Down,
To-and-fro.
Well thought out,
but not choreographed.

Color her
like the Roses on my tongue;
Entangled and Infatuated,
They speak of Youth,
Naivety,
nervousness....

Step back
and She blossoms to life.
A monument lays before me;
the mortal
achieve immortality.

Perfect
from her
Head
to her
Toes.

Elemenohp May 2016

Complimenting a succubus, may not go as planned,
For every line you feed a whore; she will want several more.
Words are fuel for her fire, keep it burning, her desire.
More, and more, and more it takes,
To satisfy, to satiate.
Give me some fucking more,
And I'll be your little whore.

Frieda P Oct 2013

Your musky scent lingered
wafted through my mind
my eyes glistened in the recall
echoed in enthralled moments,
Chantilly laced and perfumed
my body aches to do it again
a shiver tickles my inner thigh
flutter of fiery passion enraptured
left its brand upon my breast
your torrid kisses bruised my lips
pain and ecstasy of divine bliss
sizzling in thrashing slow motion
within my trance of sultry nights

lily Feb 2015

the mingled sounds of our moans
our tongues in a hypnotic dance
our bodies grinding in a sultry rhythm

JoJo Nguyen Jul 2013

Faithful Sultry less
bleeding gone to die.
Toothy advice sense
take chase child in lie
to win favor from Mom,
Dad and narrow eye.
Fatty truth rubs
beneath a morsel joke,
beating bushy retreat
into a sheep's cloak.
Wrath swearing against
old, Sultry and three,
false age and stiff tail
boar honest friend's free.

SPT Nov 2014

Sometimes Berry White comes to me
Through the mist in my foggy dreams
Lacing my hands on his body
Slowly breaking him down
Sultry his mellow tone
Setting the mood
I exhale his fumes
So much good in the air
Thick opulence like opal jewels
As the light shines through
Dancing in rays of prisms
Barry takes my hand
And kisses my lips
I'm high in heaven

Nice last two nights
Lol, it's coming your way SM
Berry whites elephant
bitsy the poet Oct 2014

I’m not religious,
but you've got a tongue that can
make me see Jesus.

© Bitsy Sanders, October 2014

Melody out to
Tug at my heartstrings
My lady’s voice.

A honeyed polished version
of Mariah Carey's.
breathtakingly sensuous with
a hint of naughty**

gyrating
to and fro
hypnotic
mesmeric
her hips did move
men were lured
into her pelvic groove
the spangling sequins
on her costume
shimmered
in their most desirous eyes
how they all
aspired
to
dance
in her tantalizing field
a scorching heat
she did produce
which generated
a furnace of ardency
in a smoke filled bar
on ninth avenue
men did feast
upon her sultry menu

#dance  #desire  #ardency
Kim E Williams Aug 2014

Just before dawn
The moon looms
Bright, bold
Shining through the skin
Of clouds
Sliding across her
Like the lace gliding off your
Shoulders
Last night…

oh the passing of our passions...
Mrs White Ace Mar 2012

Now, looking back,
I suppose there may have been an upsetting reason.

Then, I thought nothing of it.
Sex, for me, was never a visually pleasing thing anyway.
Sex, I'd suppose, is far more intimate ,and
a good 20 minute bike ride closer to making love,
for the blind than for the seeing.
'I don't like having sex with the light on' you said.
So, mostly dark were the hours we spent in your bed.

Now, looking back,
maybe the darkness was a must.
Maybe you needed to forget with whom you were dealing.
Although, if I remember correctly,
I think it was light(ish) that time
we fucked in a bush and I came on your family's picnic blanket.
Still, your eyes were shut throughout.

Every time I could see you as I snuck in, got stuck in.
Your eyes were never open when we use to start fucking.

Now, looking forward,
I suppose I don't really care.
Aslong as you are happy now
and when you fuck, you stare.

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