He knows that once he presses his tongue to the seam of my lips, my resistance will crumble. My hands will do his bidding. They will fall down the arch of his back as my head spins., all thoughts stopped in their tracks. Darkness will come and my eyes will fight to stay open, while my legs will fight to stay closed.
How intent your immortal fire make as a god of me among men liquidizing
my mind into developing a seemingly magical process. Stay and transfer my
moans until they become longer whispers as each thrust penetrates. Combine
and deliver us into this volcanic submersion and suppress us into this
forever glowing ash that lites and lights, and let our lightening from
heaven to earth. Shine upon all who dare as we do. Stay.
I can offer you my hand,
my impatient tentacles that will graze your thighs. Let them find us gasping in bathroom stalls and buses with our fingers sticky with greed, with eyes that see only dark corners and opportunity as we rendezvous on lover’s lane.
Continue reading “Anything for you”
He was all logic and feigned cool detachment until our skins touched. At my grant of access, his tongue delved into my mouth. My arms reached up and tangled around his neck, while his fingers traced my spine, pulling me closer until there was no space between us. He tried to be gentle with my clothing, but his strong rough hands were not made for tiny clasps.
Kiss me where my carotid
meets my clavicle, leave
cherry blossoms scattered
across my flesh, dot the
highways of my neck. Bend
me like words. Arch me more
than a metaphor. Make me
your masterpiece. Please.
You don’t always need lewd,
dirty talk to turn her on.
Listen to her body,
the arch in her back
means that she is
listening to yours.
Continue reading “Lewd”
“I could be good for you,”
he said, in a brand new
tattoo kinda way, all
freedom and rebellion
and lust melting into
I want my man like I want
my books: warm to touch,
smooth on the inside but
rough along the edges,
leather-bound with a hard
back, filled with sordid
stories to tell.
Continue reading “Leather”
I want you tossed and turned,
and tussled in my bed. I want you
lost in the messy chaos of the sheets,
buried in your own breath, clawing
your way out with my name on your Continue reading “Tossed and turned”
Make coffee, so that the whole place smells like hazelnut. Put on some Marvin Gaye, turned down low. Slide back under the sheets with me.
Continue reading “The perfect way to wake me:”
He comes at the ungodliest of hours.
We speak without voices, hands and
hips asking how was your day, tongues
probing and thighs falling open in Continue reading “Lecherous longing”