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LIT CAMS (200 Free Tokens)ADULT TOYSVOD MOVIES

Annie's shoebox

Peter plucked some pine cones
to put upon his tree.
but Peter passed some pretty picks
pouting pettily
Patsy piqued by pettiness
piston Peter's plot
and Pastor Passim passed out
impassioned by her splot.
 
What is your greatest regret?

I didn't look after my teeth,
my pearly whites now reside in a cup
so if you look closely beneath
just gums gleam sunny side up.

My pearly whites now reside in a cup
like stars they come out at night,
just gums gleam sunny side up
the result's not a pretty sight.

Like stars they come out at night,
there they sit with a devilish grin,
the result's not a pretty sight
and it makes for a droopy chin.

There they sit with a devilish grin
so If you look closely beneath,
and it makes for a droopy chin.
I didn't look after my teeth.
 
He's everything to me, yet not enough
to banish insecurities of being unlovable.
The seeds planted over half a century ago,
still lead me into dark dungeon encounters
where ironically sex is harsh and nothing
to do with love, but does have the kick
of being wanted, if only for the whip crack
were taboo meets reality and at least
the orgasmic, adrenaline rush pain is real.
 
My dogs

that guard me so ferociously
now that i'm alone ,
are the same ones to rout
me from my bed barking at shadows
while the sun still sleeps in hers.
 
terrific idea - they end up in the attic on the backs of diner place mats and napkins (scribbled in tiny hand inside book match covers? perhaps)
 
He says "If you DO die in the night,
I'll straighten you out
so you fit in the coffin,
I'm nice like that." :eek:
 
Spring arrived with a flourish of daffodil trumpets
and for a few days jumped ahead into Summer
way too soon, but much appreciated.
Now she sees her error and remembers the old rhyme
of 'April showers brings forth bowers'.
 
I’ve got the gray blues
been cold and rainy for days
my bones ache to the core
I’ve got the gray blues

Missing the sun
those warm golden rays
shining down on my face
lighting the way to another day.

I’ve got the gray blues
craving when they go away.
 
I grew from a stone, an Avocado
that can't seem to decide whether
to thrive in this alien environment.
Tall with but two small leaves atop the stem
which it will drop and grow two more.
Not ready yet to finally give up
nor burst into flourishing vigorous life.
Do i deprive it and nip those leaves out
and hope for more leaves or alas
left a naked stem, to die?
 
With apologies to Alfred, Lord Tennyson
.
Harrods' January Sale

Half price sale, half price sale.
Half price sale now on!

Away through the doors of Harrods
stormed the six hundred.
"Forward the Chelsea Brigade
charge for bargains!" She said.
Into the Lingerie Department
stormed the six hundred.

"Forward the Chelsea Brigade!"
Was there a assistant not dismayed?
Although the Doorman knew
someone had floundered.
His is not to pick her up,
his not to face the C sized cup,
his not to get that close up.
Into the Department of Lingerie
stormed the six hundred.

Knickers to the right of them,
Knickers to the left of them,
Knickers in front of them
flew overhead and rebounded;
stormed at with verve and swell
bodily they slammed pell mell.
Into the aisles of Death,
into the Department of Lingerie,
stormed the six hundred.

Smashed all the waiting shelves bare,
smashed each shopper standing there,
elbows in use not safe or fair.
Seeking a bargain, while
all around the Store resounded
like the fury of all hell let loose
to cursing, screams and much abuse.
Piccadilly and Kensington
reeled from the elbows profuse
shattered and grounded,
then they fell back, but not,
not, the six hundred.

When will the material fade?
Was hemming checked for how well made?
When all around the Store resounded.
Honour the price they paid!
Honour the Chelsea Brigade!
Outstanding six hundred!
 
Down in the Troldrums

I trundled cloddish as a Troll
That floundered over hill and vale,
When all at once I saw a knoll
and on that bump there stood a pail.
Over there yonder by itself
Not even balanced on a shelf.

As I approached the lonesome bucket
It rattled in a mournful tone,
But having feet my size, oh fuck it
I dislodged a rock with my toe bone.
Down it clattered, clanged and crashed
And all within it splished and splashed.

I groaned frustrated, fraught and clumsy
At what I'd done with my big feet
And blamed ancestors (Pa and Mumsy)
I never would be lithe and fleet.
Away it sped to distant parts,
Careering, splishing, squelch and farts.

Now I wander lack of lustre
Far and wide I seek my goal.
Investigating with my duster
Cleaning messes from each bowl.
Still I've never found my vessel
Not on knoll, or hill, or trestle.
 
Are you sure she can cater for us all? I said,
because counting Shorty there's nine of us.
Sure the more the merrier, he replied with a grin,
but alas as I thought it was not to be
and I left a rueful and wiser man.

But Shorty? Ah Shorty, he had the time of his life
and still talked about it for years to come.
 
From the point of view of a red clay brick.
(A Pantoum)

Though mortar holds me to the earth
I dream of meadows long before
quarries dragged me from my birth
and smothered like a murdered whore.

I dream of meadows long before,
I'm forced into this rigid shape
and smothered like a murdered whore
once young and fresh, bespoiled by rape.

I'm forced into this rigid shape
now used and tied to someone's whim,
once young and fresh, bespoiled by rape,
remembers life before the skim.

Now used and tied to someone's whim
quarries dragged me from my birth
remembers life before the skim
though mortar holds me to the earth.
 
Cento......... Lines lifted from poems by other authors posted at Literotica.com. In this case Uggg. Thank you
.
Does the prey not feel a moment of desire?
See how they dance and prance for her,
sometimes learning the hard way is best.
Knowledge of what more we have in store
from pain past felt and long thought buried,
the human is a complicated thing
we will bring our own demons
and the sensual touch of a wasp's sting.

If that must be, then let them be ...
 
Sh! not so loud: he’ll hear you,
Mary said' from underneath
Roger's thrashing body
and you must use a sheath,
It's one thing now to cuckold him
as he snores away next door,
but when you've finished pumping
I don't want your spore.
There's nothing worse much later
to find your little kickers
are making such a soggy mess
from dripping in my knickers.
What's that you say, I must behave
and stop making it a farce?
My God! A slap across each cheek
you've shoved it up my arse!
 
Hands and lips caress each other's body,
drawing the breath from your lover’s mouth.
Feel the energies of combined desire
like a fiery ball, an engulfment of bodies
between your sex and eyes.
There are no words to say, only the way,
whatever you desire beyond this minute.
Energy flows between polarities, an attraction of energies.
Burn bright, your inner fire flowing into your lover.
When the ball bursts
passion will explode into the void
that brings you together as one.
 
Father's Garden
The back garden was every vegetable and fruit
he could get to grow, to keep his family fed,
but his passion was flowers, especially roses.
Wallflowers, sweet peas and michaelmas daisies
rioted by the onion beds and out front
was where his dahlias and roses grew,
scrambling sweet scented over homemade trellises,
unhindered by rhubarb and carrots.
My job was picking off slugs and snails
from his prize dahlias because my sisters
squealed at anything creepy crawly!
 
A wisp of cigarette smoke hangs in the air
like a ghost spiralling into the darkness
as I walk silently through the empty streets.
I've never felt lonely or afraid here.
This is my city, asleep now, readying herself
for the clamour of the early morning.
The moon sheds his light as if waiting to illuminate
some great photography of a special place and time.
But alas, I must turn my steps for home,
to my loved one who lies not yet asleep; waiting.
 
This taboo never ceases to intoxicate
and intensify my senses, as you lead me
down a different path through the woods,
one I've never seen before, but now led
fearlessly by a paternal hand into the darkness,
a path that has no return once laid upon
my scarlet cloak that shows no stain'
where you taught how to become a woman.
 
Up you there and stand astride,
no hiding of your slatherings,
we'll have not ploppy goodlewooks
for shitty legs foul makes our beds!
 
Write a poem that includes all of the following words: fool, game, starlight.
.
What a fool I was to play your stupid game,
and now as I hear the sirens
bearing down on us I know there's no escape.
I try desperately to swallow hysterical fear
as you prepare to fight it out, you'll be
killing both of us, although I hold no gun.
Once I saw starlight in your eyes, but I was wrong,
it was madness for your cause.

I was right to fear, it hurts a lot,
but only for a little while and now the only
stars i see in a darkening sky, are real ones .....
 
An ongoing poem .

.
I'm learning to use my hearing aids,
not an easy thing to do,
because although they amplify normal things,
they do it to annoying noises too!
 
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