just porn

greenmountaineer said:

This is erotic poetry at its best, absolutely beautiful. I enjoyed it very much and am sharing it tonight with my wife as a wonderful aperitif before our Valentines Day dinner.

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butters said:

just superb

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Thank you both. I am flattered that you will read this for your valentine GM, I'm happy to help delight.

And butters I do so agree with your thoughts on Tzed's beauty. It is superb.

Ouroboros grins
full of himself, I wish I
too could self-fellate.

I don't cum easily but when I do
FUCK it's a roller coaster ride
of blasphemy! Feel it rising, holding the crest
but not too long! Until one blends into two
then three, four, five. losing count!
My God, my God each blends into the next
riding the wave, hitting the beach
to tsunami out beyond the horizon
gaining strength to crash back in again
until collapsing upon the bed,
sated and quivering with aftershocks.

the air is heavy
when she walks in the room
thick and heady
as if lust is pollen dancing from her pores
the scent of a flower
in heat

ripe for pollination
she slinks
morphing into a wolf
the power in her haunches
as she slowly sways cross the room

I crie softly in my throat
a whimper of desire
that turns to a growl of acceptance
that this is her surrender

her hand reaches my zipper
eyes locked to mine...

Hookup

This room is too warm.

I could rub at your crotch, rub at the
outside of your jeans

and be shielded
by some layer of denim
from your intimate touch

as if I really needed that insulation. But
instead let me write some hot words,
let them lick like a warm tongue
over and along your,

well, ears

or something as I might hope to elucidate
why you should first try,

baby, baby,
like maybe you could first try to talk to me.

....................

..............i give up

First Anniversary Dinner

Heat surrounds my fingers,
dipped into frothing wetness,
running over surfaces your tongue
lapped at, as if the finest pastry
in the world had sat there.

Pink and glistening with a frosting
of sweet butter and sugar,
whipped into sturdy peaks
that you longed to have melt
in your mouth as you inhaled.

My palms smoothing over hard
porcelain, yearning to render
you helpless or to feel you
pressed against my back, hands
gliding my panties off, my hair

gripped in one hand, my body
guided by the other, my mind
giving over to you instead
of washing the fine china, a gift
on the occasion of our wedding.

Cream! He said, you cream!
Mmmm just for you
sweet and delicious on the tongue.
I'll say! he said and dived in for more
until the sheets damp from
my desires lay rumpled around us
and I cried out
once,
twice,
flooding his mouth.
He rose to enter me
and our cream mingled.

I search for a moment
when
it tips
when the lines of human kind
shrink
blur into shadows
when yes is the only answer that makes sense

where gasps are wet words
that drip with the intent
of release

because there is a point
when it slides home
the red blush swells
skin prickles

teeth on your wrist
where you're on the tip
of my tongue
I follow the contours
there with you
not looking for a paint by numbers
kinda loving

I want your gasps
your moans
your movement
as my compass

we're driving
through the narrows
hanging tight to the bends
every corner is
driven to the limit

I grip your hips
drag my fingers through your hair
clasped in a fist
pull you onto me

you help me feel
the ground beneath my feet
the gentleness of you hair in my hand
the heat pouring
from your loosed mind

free to roam the unfettered halls
of your own salacious intent
I'm here to help guide you to
the edges of cliffs
here to help you jump
a safe place to fall against

to let go of your inhibitions
to make peace with the fact that this
freedom is a rare moment
you can cry to god
you can unleash

here with my cock
driven to the hilt
of your own desires
divining water in the desert of self doubt

a place where
you can scream out the passions
of fuck
over and over

urged on by release
this place is where
aphrodisiacs lay in unabashed
glory

kneeling in the essence of
animal instincts
where howling at the moon
is perfect
and coming is the only option

One, two, three O'Leary
You're a cock teaser Mary,
What's a boy got to do.
when you won't follow through?
Gather up his dignity
and cure his own rigidity!

UnderYourSpell said:

One, two, three O'Leary
You're a cock teaser Mary,
What's a boy got to do.
when you won't follow through?
Gather up his dignity
and cure his own rigidity!

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what are you trying to say here

todski28 said:

what are you trying to say here

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Take himself in hand?

UnderYourSpell said:

Take himself in hand?

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ahhh the manual art of hand unloading

Sexy as hell

todski28 said:

the air is heavy
when she walks in the room
thick and heady
as if lust is pollen dancing from her pores
the scent of a flower
in heat

ripe for pollination
she slinks
morphing into a wolf
the power in her haunches
as she slowly sways cross the room

I crie softly in my throat
a whimper of desire
that turns to a growl of acceptance
that this is her surrender

her hand reaches my zipper
eyes locked to mine...

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This is so good! I love the wolf metaphor! Fantastic!

Beatrix_B said:

This is so good! I love the wolf metaphor! Fantastic!

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thanks, a lot of my stuff is first draft or forget about it throw away writing simply writing for writings sake, I appreciate the comment, and welcome to PFandD

feel free to post any of your own writings, spark up conversations look around the seedy halls, fingernails raked in brick
sinks filled with tears
booze
pills
drugs
sex
love
hope
despair
loss.....
and all the other sordid details us poets love to wallow in


been quiet round these parts of late, lots of echoes revebrating back along the halls, but there is poetry here the likes of which you've probably never seen...... a lot you may never want to see again,

but this little backwater has some of the best poets I've had the privilege of writing with and learning from,

Her lips look like a cunt Id like to fuck
he guffaws
as if this spoken trash
is an indictment of all she is, was or ever will be
distasteful words, I curl my nose in disgust
understanding he knows she's so far above
his own self worth
he has to tear her down
so he can hide how pathetic he really is

I look him direct in the eyes
tell him to shut his fucking mouth......

later she strolls by,
eyes glacial blue
the kind that freeze a man dead
a medusas gaze still cloaked
in Aphrodite's ski n
her lips plump and full
glowing like treasures
promises made in silent
brevity

she glides, her waist trim
ass taut..... and she has slapped me
senseless

I approach a man not clothed
in wolvea intentions
not loping after her as if she is prey
I know for all of what radiates on the outside
is she worth my time?

Initiak attraction drives us to the chase
but what is a prize if its only fools gold?

So we dance with words and barbs
our flirtatious tones
and doubke entendres fencing blows
she giggles and slaps my arm....

Later when she has dripped her propriety
and we lay satiated
her heart beat throbbing
under the palm of my hand
the sweat of my brow
trickles down onto the pillow

her lips are an invitation
to my desires
but her lust will consume me

HUMPING (as it were)

HUMPING

By JCSTREET © 2004, 2018 04xxxx

I used to hump them
against the wall of a stairwell
down from the library
where I typed L/C catalogue cards
on an IBM Selectric they were
expensive then but I have owned two since; they were

mostly slim and tall, small-
breasted and sterterous-breathed, moistly-
receptive and musky with longing I
remember all their first and last names the
six or seven from the library that Fall, one
an ex-airline stewardess, faithful but
none too bright, another
lately arrived from Poland though
not from Gdansk a
ballet dancer she could have crushed me like a python and
did essay a few thigh squeezes

just to intimate
her steely cabled limbs the

shorter ones were breastier
as though God had ordained that they should
be compensated
for never seeing
the fateful throw at the ball game when the crowd
reared up
cheering wildly it was

so easy to come in those days, they
with knee insinuated
twixt my thighs, my
fingers sliding up the lissome stockinged limbs and
past the garters to slip
cunning fingers into
“the place where they would be”

(as Lady Franklin so sweetly put it on her monument to Sir John and his gallant band—of their 1846 demise)

There was a New Zealand girl lately
ex-London and mad for it, a New Zealand girl
who systematically
worked through we lowly clerks
one by one in her minuscule apartment she
stood not upon the order of her coming
giving it up at the first thrust, her
baby ass vibrating
like an exerciser belt she
married a dentist some years later and we
corresponded for a time, but

the sweeter couplings lay beyond

the stacks that separated
us from the cataloguers, those
with BL esses, the quality
women………….

Maggie: laughing and lively this was
much more serious and
left a deep well of grieving when she
moved on but then

a freckled redhead – ex Air Force corporal
renewed my life when
at the office Christmas party
she melted in my arms and
made me whole for the
balance of winter, she

is dead now, Michael
for whom I had worked told me
she was crushed by an 18-wheeler
back in the 70s
up to the Lakehead, she had

always liked compact cars.

-30-

June 14, 2004, Kingston, Ontario

ur a fucking genius

JCSTREET said:

ur a fucking genius

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or just another dirty minded old man remembering
lest we forget

you're quite right

"that rages as you urge harder

that rages as you harder urge?

just a thought

aw shucks (blush)

some good images

Da! ochin horosho