want you by my side
holding hands
sitting in booths
hand under dress
playing
Watching you fighting to not gasp
to not moan
fingers slick
right to the edge
Pull out
I lick my fingers
savoring the taste of you
hand in hand to the bathroom
leaning in
whisper
I need you to cum. Will you cum for me?
sex
Solstice
The world is turning
dipping to lowest ebb
til transition at brightest peak
my love resplendent in her power
I my weakest
the mantle passes from the hot gold fecundity of the summer moon
to the cold sharp quiescent winter sky
this would seem to paint us rivals
opposites in struggle
but
these moments of transition are the hours of our lovemaking
an epic titanic love
which seemingly makes us lonely
but there are other worlds
other transition
the bitter winter of space itself
the fierce nuclear fire of the stars
our love is the universe
our lovemaking the acts that foster change
we are love bound together
played out in dances big and small
Dance with us
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Switchy thoughts in the Afternoon
I’ll tell you my innermost thoughts but you’ll see only filthy desires.
I hear you say “Come over here.” An innocent phrase, but it makes me want to crawl to you. To say, “Yes, Mistress,” and wait for your next command.
Gazing up in adoration. Waiting to be beaten, punished, taken, humiliated and fucked. Waiting to hear the order to pleasure you. For most I’m a Master, for you I’d trade in my paddle for a collar, at least for a while.
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Who are these people?
Every story I hear about how awful or boring or lackluster a sexual encounter is, I’m floored. I just can’t seem to grasp how someone could want to be less than good. How someone can be so focused on their own gratification that they don’t see to the desires of their partner. Even if it’s a one time deal.
Now, admittedly, I’m not great at vanilla aspects of love making. In a vanilla situation, what do I do with my hands? It causes me anxiety not knowing. Non vanilla and I’ll be pinching and squeezing. Hand at your throat, controlling your breathing. But vanilla? I’m lost.
Explicitly, you should always have other sensations occurring other than just my dick inside you. In vanilla that’s what? Hands running across your body? In my head, hands exploring is a sensual prelude not a main course.
With kink, there is a wide range of possibilities from light bondage, to discipline, to spanking, to pinwheels, to a wide range of toys, and on and on.
Vanilla just narrows the scope. There are likely people that excel at this narrow scope. Who provide an excellent experience. It’s not me. I’m not practiced at it. So, while I’ll be enthusiastic and attentive, I wouldn’t consider myself good.
But, I would do everything in my power to make sure you, my partner, have a good time. Just because I don’t consider myself good doesn’t mean that you will. You will probably see that some aspects weren’t great. But after two or three orgasms that leave you boneless, I hope you will at least remember me fondly.
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Reveal yourself, so that I may
I look into your eyes, giving you my soul
I take fierce possession of your mouth with mine. Hand to the back of your neck while my other grasps your hand our fingers intertwined. I growl my desire. Every inch of my skin burns to touch yours. To revel in your pleasure, waiting for the sweet moment when you say yes. I undress you slowly. Each button, each clasp revealing more of you. I hold your eyes as I stroke and kiss every inch. I’m ready, but I go slow. I write poetry with my fingers and tongue on your skin. Tell me about your day, I need to hear you while my eyes and hand and mouth, taste and touch and drink every square centimeter of you. Of my temple. I worship. The jasmine earth of your taste, golden nectar. This and a thousand other pleasures, fills my mind.
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Every moment of every day
desire for you consumes,
a flame bitter and cold,
need raging across nerve endings,
need for your touch, your voice, your words,
crawl to me,
rest your head on my thigh,
taste your mouth,
teasing your body,
looking into your eyes, kindling flame,
in pleasures ragged and painful, hold you to me,
my hands and tongue exploring every inch,
knowing and needing,
your soft whimpers,
the feel of your body around mine,
tight with desire,
scream startling neighbors,
make you mine,
again and again until we dissolve in pools of sweat,
never stop making love to you, even when our bodies fail us,
whisper my desires, future plans,
taut with greed for you,
all that you are,
there is nothing of you I do not worship,
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My Miss
I would rather be near you than be far
To be inside you, exploring the world
To feel you around me, to press fingers and tongue
I need to be inside, to share as much space as possible
to feel your heat, for you to feel mine
this need, this desire, to mark you as mine
to demonstrate to the world that you are free
but
This physical expression is just that
if it is not to be
then I know my thoughts will be curled in your mind
teasing you with the possibility of this life
That there is someone who wants you in ways you can only imagine
who needs you in ways you’ve never dreamed possible
who would delight in your freedom to persue your desires
and help you reach as far as you need to.
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Taunt of Morpheus – miss
Bare metal against skin
Sharp indentation as chain bites into hands
The soft cold feel, silk across eyes
The feel of fingers, moving in slow circles
The flat of a blade, following the same path
Hand settling in, the feel of thumb against throat
The pressure, hinting but never quite cutting off breathe
A line of fire, the wet meets cold air
The slow press of him
His weight pinning
Slowly entering the place of rightful worship
Blaze of heat throbbing inside
Teeth scraping and biting
Grinding in, marking her as owned
This lingering taste of her
Slides away as he slips free from sleeps shackles
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How I begin
every sigh, groan, yip, shudder is my prize
fingers inside you, exploring the velvet wet,
my muscular tongue spelling out pleasures, bucking,
contracting around the fingers of my dancing hand,
just the start,
one orgasm merely tells where your nerves best crave,
know every inch of you before the night is done
every vanilla variety
for then the pleasure can really begin.
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Ritual of Winter and Summer
The blade spins round
silver flash
crimson drips like rain
hand dips into cool waters
sudden flung into night air
droplets suspend like stars
each reflect back your beauty
my goddess
you press lips
and lick my blood from blade
our joining shifts the stars
all that was and is shivers
Pelgris 