I would like to be a writer. I began this site with amorous intentions, and over the course of time, I hope to have evolved as a male in an ever changing society that is today, recognizing the true beauty and elegance of woman. My words and notions will I hope respond in poetic verse of many genre and style. Come along and please share your ideas and insights. Thank you for your visit.

Posts tagged “erotic

If We Might Imagine Real


When once we could

sense one another,

hold fast to each other,

feel our bodies intermingle,

my hands soft fall,

fingertips touch a naked arm,

shoulder to wrist,

I want you to feel my touch,

while yours,

touch my back,

naked,

pulling me close,

feeling my need rise

toward your own center,

we appeal to one another,

lips a sweet creation

a oneness,

while in passion’s grace

skin to skin

our lives

are within the realm

of why it is we wish to be,

and knowing such,

we do,

we will continue a journey

long before the reckoning,

we begin to search

each other’s desire,

a sensuality

found easily one inside

the realm within

a reach


A State of Want


In a glance,

a smooth gentle curve,

winding around a world,

where my want might remain,

it is in this quiet

delight,

the shape of you,

with eyes enhanced,

suggesting I might take you,

suggesting please do take me,

in that moment

delicious.

 

I am a wonder in fantasy,

only with a desire might I recall,

the contours of a settling valley,

a surreal stream,

a touch,

the rising waters will then give me pause,

for it is here in the nature of love,

I do wish to watch springs flow,

the gasps of evening, a sensory paradise,

it is a caress of her sweet remedy,

my dreams become reality.


Only Erotic


When I do touch her,

there is this immediate

sensory need to know pleasure,

not my own,

hers, the sense of where I might be,

will soon discover a gasp,

a garment with my teeth,

a gently bite of her shoulder,

swept away to a naked caress,

and my tongue and lips explore

her every being,

and yet, we are just beginning,

I move with hands on shoulders,

her open neck waiting,

enough to know when touch,

her head flails,

wanting my every motion to capture,

the essence of her woman.

 

… and then I will let my hands cup

the simple nature of her being,

lips finding, fingertips tracing,

tongue a twirl,

now it is her gasps will let my hands

fall to discover a center,

that part of her beauty I imagine,

only when apart how much I would carefully,

with precision,

find her,

move her,

taste her excitement.

 

For it is then we know there is integrity,

in the nature of woman, in woman,

in her wanting to feel,

wanting to reveal that which will

allow me to reach inside her whole.


Stunning Appraisal


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.


Flower


A fragrance,

when in a crowd is subtle,

Alone,

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,

to want,

need.

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,

and now,

we rest in each other’s arms,

the scent of your rose breathe free.


Chocolate and Sex


Eyes closed

I can taste you,

syrup runs my cheeks,

I will stay here and let my tongue

melt you

soothe my slow slide

gasp

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

eye roll

gasp

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.


I Think About Her Eyes


When I’m alone,

I imagine her,

sweet repose,

wandering fingertips,

basking in a quiet afternoon light,

simple,

free,

sexual,

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

her fantasy.

~

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,

if only,

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.

~

self-love