Apologies

[UnmaskedPoet]

I am now returning control to the poets. I do apologize for hijacking two threads but you guys are so stiff it ain’t funny. Elda you have my heart. What the hell are you with that kind of tongue? A person or a lizard? Don’t matter to me I’m multi species about that pole who said I had one? Let’s talk flower, pie, peach, clam…

U.P. can rest in peace,
until I return that is!

Elda, you make me hotta than Georgia asphalt
UP

 

[Elda Furry]

Oh, are you pole-less, UPoet?

I have a she-devil tongue, UPoet. It's forked, so I'm able to lick both sides of an obelisk-shaped object at once. It's a real conversation piece.

 

[UnmaskedPoet]

Well

I am synthetic, I spose I could strap one on. I am known by many names.

UnmaskedPoet
Knower of secrets
Poet Comic
Jude Oh
Karmeldog
Wicked Eve
saltpeter
Redcave
Beelzebub

We seem to have that forked tongue in common

 

[Elda Furry]

I'm known by many names also. "Oh my god, you dirty girl, that's fucking incredible!" is one of the.
You've been entertaining, my multi-moniker man. (male?)

 

[UnmaskedPoet]

Parting is such sweet sorrow

Oh no! I feel my multiple personalities.

 

[Jude oh]

I'm above it all

 

[RedCave]

It’s a conspiracy!

 

[karmeldog]

I expected more

 

[saltpeter]

Seems perfectly clear to me

 

[Wicked Eve]

Now, now, play nice.

 

[Guest]

I've seen you all naked!

 

[Guest]

It's only comedy.

 

[Guest]

You ain't seen the last of me.

 

[KillerMuffin]

*steals UP's caffiene*

Hi UP.

 

[Unmasked Poet]

I hate to say it.

But that is not me! Its damn funny but rude.

U.P.

 

[WickedEve]

Hey, Sybil! Couldn't you have been more original?

How about "Stick it Eve?"

UPoet, do I still make you hotta than GA asphalt? You were so easy! lol

Now, now, let's plays nice... as long as it's with whips and chains and bulging objects I can insert in your !

 

[Unmasked Poet]

Eve,

Ignore him/her/it

I dropped in because I got an email saying I was being "hung in effigy." I'm glad I did, I got a chuckle and interesting thought on prose poetry. Sometimes they let the inmates out for air.

U.P.

 

[WickedEve]

UP, you were hung in effigy, but it seems that UnmaskedPoet wanna be wasn't hung at all.

 

[UnmaskedPoet]

Oh contraire!

You obviously don't know of whom you speak, you salacious tart. If it's one thing I am it's hung...baby.

 

[WickedEve]

"salacious tart" Oh, you sweet talker!

 

[Wicked Eve]

Hello my sweet....

Why I think he's passed the test to be blessed with both of our earthly delights, don't you?

You want the front or the back? Never mind....I know you, my secret sexed up saucy twin! I'll take the front.

 

[~Dream~]

With Artful's permission,

u.p. i would say you are such a little "bragger" but then again you'd have to have something to BRAG ABOUT!! lol lmfao

 

[WickedEve]

to the other Wicked Eve

If we were to cyber, would it be cyber-masturbation? Are you listening, or am I just talking to myself? lol

Would you like Elda to come back out and play? I think she has the hots for you, UPoet... that is if you can pull yourselves together.

PS... You're right. I'll take the back. Oh, bend me over, spank me, and... well, it seems you know the rest about what I like. I do Like It Like That (shameless plug )

 

[Wicked Eve]

Yes my sister, it would be cyber masturbation! Oh and what a joy! Nobody knows the kitty better than we do.

 

[WickedEve]

Not the real WickedEve but an incredible life like simulation. A Synthetic and Improved "Wicked" Wicked without that Political Correctness flag up her ass.

Now I know where that thrill is coming from.

Speaking of flags...

Jonah was a whale of a man
both in stature and...
He was seeking a bride
who could take him inside.

Searched hill and valley,
and prostitute rally.
He was no longer choosy;
he'd settle for a floozy!

He was about to quit,
when he saw her sit.
All the way in her hole,
took the entire flagpole.

Poem by The Real Wicked Eve. Nothing synthetic. Go ahead, touch. That's it, baby. It's all fucking real!

Speaking of fucking...
Here's a little taste of Worth a Sixpence. A sweet little (48 stanza) poem about anal sex, witches, and eating men.

Smashed pumpkins on the horizon,
flame shadows hyper beyond the door,
unearthly glow crawls over mortal,
and across his man-hungry whore.

He took the reins and found his fingers
entwined by her strangling vines of hair.
He spurred her on as their wet flesh
beat like wings on stormy air.

His manhood inside her spun around
like clay on a pottery wheel.
Bedeviled bowels of talent,
shape-shifting his cock at will.

The power between her lusty globes
held him in spellbound subjugation,
as her devil magic milked him dry,
withering him with frantic copulation.

Twin pendulums of rounded flesh,
he watched their hypnotic sway.
Lost in a bewitching trance
until cock inside no longer lay.