When given license to explore
regions a man may only imagine,
when allowance a fingertip
might cause an unraveling passion,
there is little need for explanation,
only the source is a lovely fluid
motion, gives the senses reason
to entice that aspect of humanity,
will explosions enhance our climax.
There is a vague reality in the distinction
between love and sex. Where one
decides a motive is a self-driven
journey, another wishes only pleasure
to manifest itself in the eyes of a lover.
It is that deep delight when cast upon
our actions, when a touch, a twirl,
a slow methodical insertion can wake
that nirvana is delightful in presence.
Would that we might repeat ourselves
again, yes, once more, please, again, a
twilight response to evening’s reason.
Would that her desire begin to move,
as he himself feels this energy untapped.
Again, again, again, rest, taste, touch, breathe
a gasp will be suggestive in her eyes, his
draw to bring alive a new utterance,
a kiss, lips, alive we wish, please … again.
when in a crowd is subtle,
her presence magical.
To touch petal to cause gasp,
soft, supple, caress her center
like a weeping rise of sweet dew
draw further inside to arouse a nectar
whose flow indicates a parting
a place to find rushing waves
passion plays a possessive
desire to own,
I do want to run a fingertip along your lines,
a slow travel to feel your open bloom,
to suggest a quiet sensuality
would I be soon to taste that peace,
that place where desire and motion become
drawn out until the final release,
like that of a firm yet bending stem,
just strong enough to hold force
until Nature’s burst
overflows my eyes …
Sweep away to find your own eyes,
a look of surreal yearning,
having found the center,
we rest in each other’s arms,
the scent of your rose breathe free.
I can taste you,
syrup runs my cheeks,
I will stay here and let my tongue
soothe my slow slide
so damn good
wrap my teeth around your center,
a sip of simple pleasure,
why not reach inside to find the fruit,
that piece, that pie, that nougat, that you,
gasp, lips wet
ready to chew, yet only gently,
just to peal the edge of your need,
waiting, wanting, whisper such a tease
that your body may react to the breeze.
I want you to melt me with your desire,
taste me, twirl me, my fingertips have now …
wet, explosive journey inside,
time for that sweet sensational
swallow me, voracious now,
I will lick chocolate off your lips
while I kiss your beauty.
Hungry mouths anticipate
a longer sojourn of sweet pleasure.
When I’m alone,
I imagine her,
basking in a quiet afternoon light,
yet there is a lovely nuance in how
imaginative she might be.
Without me, or him, or she, or anyone else
that might design their own authenticity,
she is only her favorite touch,
her quiet remedy,
an aromatic, delicious, eyes closed,
a tap, a sweet response,
her gasp envelop the streaming sunlight,
with contact upon naked skin,
allows that heat to resonate beyond
She is beauty and grace,
the natural lines of serenity,
with pause for a dynamic focus,
she smiles there,
moves on to her next surprise.
She may imagine,
flowers in a meadow in spring,
perhaps, a morning, when lingerie,
caressed her state of mind –
in every drop of innocence she writhes.
To touch woman in her beauty,
is to grace the skyward valley of love,
to know truth in why man might exist,
to gather in the radiance, her design,
that which drives the mind,
beyond the hope to the actual release,
that moment, that explosive, unbridled
need to go further, go beyond, pressing need
will draw her bath as we float through life together.
There is real beauty in painted portraits in motion,
yet elegance exists while in quiet repose … her eyes.
My internal need feeds
upon her nakedness
shoulders respond to breeze
wet with willful pause taste desire,
gasps bring naked bodies together,
a dance moves in constant form
thigh grinds her center while he does feel
her ankles pulling his chest close,
nipple in mouth, now fingers finding her lower back,
the heat below is a tease,
she chuckles knowing he could slide in,
‘damn him’ grasps his length with gentle bite.
The small of her back arched to a tongue in motion,
her buttocks offer life to his chest as he reaches her neck,
winds around a waiting naked sound,
she drives him toward her,
he lifts her wet beauty,
only to test her now – three fingers that slide freely,
please let me play with you for a bit longer,
her tongue speaks in circular tones,
her hands now immediate,
stroking while she wets his desire,
he turns her, his hands cupping her breasts,
pulls her to his chest,
head thrown back so she can have his lips,
teeth biting … shoulders, her mouth searching for his,
a lift and we’re inside
ready to ride …
We are in a constant role
to play the advocate,
understand the dynamic,
realize the consequence,
of a passionate trial.
We might suggest that he
takes over the moment,
when really we wonder,
does he know that underneath
that submission, her own
needs are truly being
blown away by the chaotic
release of her unbridled
desire to have him lead
his divine toward
her delicious garden.
For that is the case
when one time she
cried, a soft gasp
with uttered pleas,
she suggested he
might ‘detain’ her
by acquiescent play.
Allow his mind to
embrace the notion of
control, a giving,
the playful nature
that defines her soul,
his wrath, her elegance.
Sans the one
the other surely
lose his grip.
Walk inside the room, wherever you may be,
gently lay my hands on your shoulders,
smile through your confusion,
without thought of what it is I am wanting,
start with my lips on your neck,
slowly unwrapping you,
while I let go of what I believe
I need from you,
while my hands reach to your love,
caress, touch, responsive need …
When you do finally turn my way,
for a moment our eyes reach inside,
while I smile, and you begin,
I will follow your naked elegance,
until reaching a gasp,
I might lift you onto a table,
spread your legs slowly while my mouth devours
every part of that you give me,
until I might watch your reach
for something to grasp
while I define your need.
I wonder if you might help me.
*picture found on pinterest