Everyday Erotica

Did you know a mans beard grows fastest when he anticipates sex?
Since she has been around I must shave daily
 
Room Service

Room Service

two taps on the door
unlatched, breathless
locks, buttons, belts

precisely tucked sheets
soon, too soon
pulled loose and tangled

to final scenes
in steamed mirrors
fluffed towels
flung crumpled on marble

lofty pillows plummet
in purloined sleep

Home is where the heart is

We are refugees;
our hearts

in hotels
 
Maestro

Your fingers circle my wrist
fingering chords in hot frets
On my veins

Mine are rather more stretched
Round the thick neck of your instrument
Pads pressing c cord now
E, back to G

Did I get that right?
I'm not that experienced ...

But
Excuse me while I kiss the sky
teeth and tongue and cheek

Ummm foxy lady
 
*controlled cravings*

A tell tale bulge blushes, I try
to will it away, what can
I say,
something about you fires, fills my
head with impulse desires.

Proximity scorches, your scent
lingers in the air a heady
opiate
all synapses fire like
a shark that has scented blood
heart rate
slams,
nitrous injected
Beat.
 
Check out, room 204

A pile of damp towels
a lone soldier of body wash
perched on the tub edge

I could keep it
Uncap it in furtive hopes
that a ghost of your scent

your skin

might haunt me until
I kneel before you again.

Or I could leave it here
for housekeeping to add to a
box of other half empty bottles

discarded

by lovers in hotel rooms.
 
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A pile of damp towels
a lone soldier of body wash
perched on the tub edge

I could keep it
Uncap it in furtive hopes
that a ghost of your scent

your skin

might haunt me until
I kneel before you again.

Or I could leave it here
for housekeeping to add to a
box of other half empty bottles

discarded

by lovers in hotel rooms.
Room 206

I heard your cries through the wall
despite the airport noise,
the stockbrokers in the hall
and their talk of IPOs.

You might be curious to know
I climaxed before you,
And as you and your lover slowed,
I was back on YouTube.




Very erotic poem, Ms. D. I've spent a lot of lonely time in hotel rooms, which makes it personal to me.
 
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Room 206

I heard your cries through the wall
despite the airport noise,
the stockbrokers in the hall
and their talk of IPOs.

You might be curious to know
I climaxed before you,
And as you and your lover slowed,
I was back on YouTube.




Very erotic poem, Ms. D. I've spent a lot of lonely time in hotel rooms, which makes it personal to me.

If I'd known you were next door
I would have knocked :rolleyes:
 
Frosting Cookies

Frosting cookies

reminds of a sweet finale
slowly dripping
lustrous droplets
down, around
like icing
pooling, the
shudder of his stomach
singing under my cheek
 
when you get in that
mood,
you gamble
laughing irrationally
hitting my arm
smiling like crazy
dropping your head
and looking up at me

flicking your hair
and it's all about the eye
contact
I know you love
the game
I pretend I don't know
the rules
because in the end
we both win
 
Holiday Card

Holiday Card

Because I have not met your wife
I don't get a holiday card

There is one, right?

I'm sure it's a family portrait
perfect glossy composition
gorgeous kids, smiling couple
maybe a panting dog on the floor
a personalized three-line ending
on the form letter recap
of events and accomplishments:
"We do so hope you are well
looking forward to seeing you soon
love from the family"


If I ever do receive
that glossy Holiday Card
I will know
not just the year is over.
 
Keycard, Suite 1407
File under “Men are pigs,” or as I first mistyped, “pugs.”

The card you’ll get is plastic—facing
Plastered with a hotel’s name—
For you’re my present, whom I’m chasing.
I’m “apple bobbing.” It’s a game
Where I descend, my tongue extended,
Mixmastering your flesh, intended
To bring you screaming to an end
I could not forecast, but portend,
And as a finish, most delightful.

I don’t have kids, nor any pet.
I’m married, happy, but there’s yet
The fact of You. Please don’t be spiteful.

And What’s our future? Please don’t ask.
It is not marriage. Perhaps a mask?
 
Overheard by the Maid, Room 1407

Romeo oh Romeo
wherefore this
Mask in damask?

Forsooth,
Methinks my face
is my favorable
feature.

:rolleyes:
 
Correction

It’s your eyes. Your eyes
gather me

so I’m not aware
even of your luxuriant body.

Oh. Oh, perhaps I was wrong
there.

I did say “luxuriant,”
and you are, but,

well, that doesn’t mean it’s not your eyes.
It just also adds underwear.
 
They say,
they say sex,
when done right,
is messy.
Gloriously wet
and messy.
But they forgot about noisy.
(Just don't wake the kids.)
With moans and groans
and I can't believe
the words that come
from the mouth
of a prim
and proper
mother.
Buts also the whispers
from so close
that we are almost breathing
the words into each others minds.
So silent, I wonder if I dream.
Dream the words,
dream the lust,
dream the desire.
Dream that her tears are happy.
 
Explanation

I'm an old man
so you can't expect
much more than enthusiasm

backed only by dead air
or dead something
when we get back to the room

this morning.
If it helps, ten years ago
you wouldn't have been able

to walk the next day,
after I'd been over your track
like NASCAR (300 times!)

or Forumla 1.
Instead please accept
my hand along your cheek

and my impolite glance
that lingers too long on your body.
It's habit, I guess,

or the last stand of those axons
built to trigger
one or two or three night stands.
 
Junk

I know
men worry about
tented pants and everything
being so obvious but to tell the truth
I've never seen an out of context-tent
and usually I have liberated the center
pole fairly early on, but what I do
see and fixate on are men in
sweats with no
panty lines
JOGGING

I mean, where am I
supposed to look?
 
count the number on two hands,
used two hands, fingers, tongue
dipping in and out, tracing
folds and creases, teasing
increases tension that builds
crashes and splashes release
spills out with her moans
the tones audible aphrodisiac
could record and listen to it
as my own personal Viagra

familiarity breeds understanding
because women are ten times
better at reading body language
than men, so we need the time
to learn anther language
and deliver the shivers she desires

ones that spark her wires and flies
her mind into multiple
directions
before she is impaled on my
 
Gather

I would lay my love like a videotape
(outmoded, yes) before
your perfect feet

because dead technology
is all I have to give to you
other than my love. My love,

I have to repeat myself,
because I have never recorded anything.
You are overflowing flowers,

so I so carry your bouquet.
 
I gently trace a finger along her face'n hair
" mmmmmm" she moans appreciatively
" sweetie pie " i breathe 'n stroke her cheek
......................................

Then i smack her ass !?
 
Place your legs just so
that I may breathe your beauty,
so sweet as to lead my senses
to that place where my desires
may drink upon you
with fluttering tongue,
Your quiet moans my only answer
that I do indeed please
your succulent nub, erect now
and as you cry out
I part those lips that hide
the portal to our heaven.
 
Drinking with friends
Your name; the idea of you
Rises
Like bile in the throat or
Cum working its way up
And I toss
That idea back with studied
Insouciance
Behind that veil waiting for words
From you
My obsession
You.
 
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