sexy poem – Letters For My Lovers

Contained

i yearn
to feel contained
within the safety of your arms,
like a thousand bronze statues
your musculature dances
scrutinized by eons of longing

your hand
so harsh in its love
reddens my skin,
closes gently on my throat
the ultimate safety contained
within your grasp
i can feel the weight
of a million worlds
tickle my soul
as i lose myself
in the nothing and the everything
that is the space within my stars

sometimes,
you make love to me
gently, slowly,
a million kisses painting my skin
languishing in the pleasure
becomes a painful
expression of desperation
contained by muffled cries
othertimes,
our lovemaking
becomes a primal exercise
of fire and passion
my will matters not
and i lose myself
in the fury of your love

like our story
our love is boundless
fleeting,
eternal,
ephemeral,
all at once constant
and ever-changing;
we are fluid as water
and solid as stone
a curious contentment
of freedom and fancy

within our love
insanity becomes reason
and marks on thighs
become war paints of passion
i could lose myself forever
because i know i’ll
always be contained
within the safety of your arms.

Daddy’s Good Girl

Bow your head to me
let me grasp the clasp
that binds us,
and makes you feel
whole again

Present your open hands
so I may fill them
with the throbbing object
of my desires

Kneel in poised positions
statuesque perfection
willing and ready
to do Daddy’s bidding
with the nod of a head

Beg me, time and time again
to hold you tight
and fill you,
so completely
with my love.

So you want Sexy Poems?

For you, my reader,
I spread the pages of my soul,
I dip the tip of my tongue
In the forbidden ink of divine intervention.
A lost soul longing for a set of lips,
To kiss, lick, suckle to my heart’s content.

A tickle of a button
So soft it could make a feather tremble,
A breath caught between two sheets;
One second, two, three?
A gasp!
Air rushing through inflamed lungs,
Tiny beads of sweat dangling
On skin as soft as lips
Caressing freshly painted nails.

For you, my reader,
I explore long lost caves
Forsaken by the gods;
Heathen sanctuaries
Of nymphs, sprites, and fairies
I penetrate sacred grounds,
Document my stories
With tale after tale,
Stroke after stroke
Of my pen on shaking parchment.

A trusting hand,
Curling inside forbidden fruit;
A pressure so pure
It parts the sky with its lust.
The surrender…
Sweet delight, like hydromel;
Nectar of the gods.
Even they are unworthy
Of the delicacy, that is you.

Mind Over Matter

How does one love?

For is the love of love itself not a confusion,
A disarray of synapses, receiving tiny bolts of information
That make us believe a familiarity, of sorts, can give way
To a rumbling inside that can barely be contained.

But how can this be?

The intensity rises with every thought,
Mouth-watering passion, so thick in the air, you can taste it.
I can smell you, kiss you, taste you, breathe you, swallow you…
Surely this is not merely a figment, or a chemical imbalance.

Do we ever truly love?

The overwhelming need to bond, and retain our feet on solid ground,
Makes one forget that life is more than babbling babes and blue balls
It is adventure; the glance of a flame-haired beauty, across the bar
A piece of silk floating in the window of the forgotten hotel room.

So, what is love, love?

Love is the salty taste of your lips after a run.
It’s the gentle strength of your hand against my cheek.
The softness of your touch when you part my thighs.
It is the warmth of your smile when you lose yourself in thought.
The fullness of your laughter when you can’t contain your amusement.
It is the depth of our souls intertwining, time and time again.
But love is also knowing how to let go when our time is up,
Just to welcome you back in tender embrace, every time you return.
Love is knowing that I am yours, beyond convention and expectation.
It is knowing that you are mine, and that I hold the key to your heart.
Even if no one else will ever know, and we are forever worlds apart.

We are love, love.

Until We Meet Again

The raw scent of musky love
Envelops my thighs
My back arches, beckoning your arrival
My legs spread gently,
Always willing and ready
To feed you, my relentless lover.

Hands perched on parted thighs,
Only the most palatable position
For the refined and dedicated palate
Of my energetic connoisseur.
A sigh exhales, a moan soon follows
Etching ancient art
Into the heat of my burning body
A bit of this, a splash of that,
Savouring the many shades that unfold
So deliciously onto your tongue.

Nails digging into shoulders,
You tickle me just right
A timeless creator of the sparks
That ignite the fabric of my being.
Aching…
Come closer, my love,
Please,
Yes, slowly…

The deafening rumbling
Of a wave crashing onto shore,
Parting the seas of my lust,
Electrifying my senses.
I gasp for air,
Insatiable.

Overwhelm me with your love,
Just a little longer…
Deeper.
Harder.
Forever.

Bunny 🐇

Deer in headlights,
Sublime emanations and elevations
Poet pierced earnestly
By an artist’s flair
For the unknown and the unusual.
A rabbit in a hole,
Ready to eat your secret garden.
Shhhhh…

Daddy’s Love

Eat me for breakfast

A light midday meal

An afternoon delight

A delectable dinner

A midnight hankering

Obediently ready, quick-witted little kitten.

Sit, kneel, lie, spread, swallow.

Quiet, still…

Yours once, twice, again, forever.

To have and to hold,

To finger and to fuck

Faithfully.

VERSION FRANÇAISE

Fais de moi ton déjeuner

Un petit encas à midi

Un délice d’après-midi

Un dîner délectable

Une envie de minuit

Obéissante à souhait, petite minette toujours prête.

Assis, à genoux, couché, écarte, avale.

Silence, immobile…

Tienne d’abord, ensuite, encore, toujours.

A avoir et à garder,

A doigter et à baiser

Fidèlement.

🔥👄🍑❤️🌸🔥👄🍑❤️🌸

Thanks for reading! Don’t forget to follow my social accounts. 😘
Instagram
Twitter (where I will indulge you with occasional sexy photos)
Facebook

Winter Comings

Rituals
Of stories and studies
Worship
Soft bodies in hard positions
Feasts
Of the flesh and fortune
Celebrate
Sacred kinships and moons
Discoveries
Of gentle love and tighter hands
Cuddle
Red cheeks and dripping mascara
Dances
Of sex witches in frozen gardens

Kronos Embraces

Time. Irrelevant.
Conventions. Irreverent.
A perfect longing,
Slow and steady belonging
To a world one cannot place.
Occult creations,
Reincarnating reflections,
Sweetly coveting passion.
Succubus in plain sight.
Steadily arousing genitalia
Mirrors of moisture,
Soaking through layers
Of existence.
Back up against the wall.
Bearing all.

!Gasp!

Soccer dad

Eyes meet.

Bathroom door.

Pants down.

Pounding in progress.

Release.

Sigh.

Pants up.

Door opens.

Breakfast sausages.

Saturday.

Slut.

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