Giving and receiving

“Wear some sexy lingerie,” he said.

He severed its thin straps
with his teeth and watched Continue reading “Giving and receiving”



You are 4,622 km away, and yet you are searching for a spot to hit inside me, one that might make me arch my back, my hips jolt, my mouth draw open with pleasure. There is no distance between my hunger and your mouth. You can touch me in more ways intimate than flesh. As you grab my hair from behind, I become undone. I unravel, twisting myself into something flexible you call home, with the length of my legs wrapped around your neck. You are built like a tree trunk but I can never tell where the root of your insatiable desire begins. Right now, I just want your big, rough hands to take me by the hips.


You caught me staring at you today.
Well not exactly staring.
Longing, rather.
Lusting. Hoping.
Fucking you in my mind,
tracing your rough stubble
with my eyes and wondering
what it would be like to learn
your body’s topography
with my eager hands
and impatient tongue.


Don’t see the delicate in me tonight
pound me, sculpt me, make me writhe and moan,
let the roughness of you against the softness
of me bring both of us to our knees.
Take me here now, bear me down the floor.
Don’t waste time looking for somewhere soft.
Thrust the hardness of your love with hurried possessiveness,
disheveled and dripping, you know my weakness.
Replace my oxygen with deep tongue kisses,
let our hands tease the depths of the aches we’ve been keeping.
As the moans rise higher, as our hips move in tandem,
cake me in the frosting of your satisfaction.

Rough as requested by Kushal Shah.

For the whole month of August, my followers in instagram choose a word that I will write about. I’ll be posting all the poems all throughout the month.

Collab: Ishan Dafaria Part 3

The fire in our souls lighting our eyes, the glistening bodies just writhing, at the zenith of pleasure that couldn’t be described. Personifying the lust, it was a passion that was never experienced, it was a love that was never experienced.
~ Ishan Dafaria
I can still feel the soft burnt traces you have left on my skin. Our bodies lay tangled, consumed and collapsed in a pile of burnt rubble and ash. I will always be filled with this weight of longing for you, I will always be filled with the guiltiest hunger of wanting you.