Everyday Erotica

[Lyricalli]

Absolutely lovely, @Tzara. That's a swoon worthy bit of romantic longing, and I love the touch of vulnerability within the mentions of the fingers.

 

[Tzara]

Late November, 1988

I was browsing Québécois literature
in the basement of Duthie Books
when I caught sight of her fine legs

descending the spiral staircase.
She started leafing through poetry books
as I was trying to think of a pickup line

like you know, my touch could change
the whole meaning of your body¹, when I spied
the gold band on her left hand

and then all I could wish
was that today was five or ten or whatever
years ago and that I was Canadian,

knew something about hockey,
and somehow I had met her well before
that guy who got there first.


¹ Line cribbed and adapted from Lorna Crozier's poem "Man from the East"

 

[Sexy_Singer]

Philosophy 101

I was sitting in the lounge,
feet up, reading Kant,
when she went sashaying by

and while I could never know
her Ding an sich,
as a manifestation

of the phenomenal world,
she brought to mind Descartes:
Concupisco, ergo sum.

This poem challenges my thinking to come out of its numbness. It brings me back to my philosophy classes and motivates me to read more of the philosophy books that are collecting dust on my shelf.

 

[Tzara]

Language Instruction

With her public school accent,
she could have been mistaken
for a BBC presenter

or perhaps an ambassador
to a quiet and peaceful country
like Andorra or Monaco.

My American speech was unfortunately
as flat as the great plains--
always a bit dusty, like freshly tilled

soil or a rural roadway running
like a crease through
the vast cornfields of Illinois.

But then, in the dark and muted night,
my slick and silent tongue
could evoke the long, low monotones

of moans from her cultured lips
as her fingers clutched my hair, desperate
for yet another lesson.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Language Instruction

With her public school accent,
she could have been mistaken
for a BBC presenter

or perhaps an ambassador
to a quiet and peaceful country
like Andorra or Monaco.

My American speech was unfortunately
as flat as the great plains--
always a bit dusty, like freshly tilled

soil or a rural roadway running
like a crease through
the vast cornfields of Illinois.

But then, in the dark and muted night,
my slick and silent tongue
could evoke the long, low monotones

of moans from her cultured lips
as her fingers clutched my hair, desperate
for yet another lesson.

The little pop-eyed face "wow' imogi is the closest I could get to "phew!" It's steamy.

 

[Lyricalli]

The little pop-eyed face "wow' imogi is the closest I could get to "phew!" It's steamy.

I'm just going to ditto this, really. That's a nice one, Tzara.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

You, Me, and Spades

I knew, when you and I met,
that sparks flew.
We argued about literature, jazz and
child-raising, but some sparks
felt sexual to me, fizzing between us
like champagne.

We stood together in the line-up for food,
you a little impatiently, but the buffet
seem to comfort you and we sat in silence,
comfortably until I started to imagine.

I thought of your body disrobed,
penis engorged.
I tried to stop. I did.

But the images just continued
taking us to places
I wish we could share, beaches,
history-filled cities where
bedrooms in cozy B n Bs welcomed us,
formal gardens in an England
that’s gone forever but we’d make love anyway,
in a secluded spot.
All this in the time it took to eat.

Sex didn’t occur to me until you,
suddenly suggested it. taking
me by surprise, but I’ve learned,
that’s just your way. A spade’s
a spade.

 

[Lyricalli]

But we always end up breathless and sated by noon


It's a split moment decision
made in the hazy fog of morning
to keep still, quiet
or to press back and moan
when your arm circles my waist
tugging me closer
your hard cock nestled
against the cleft of my cozy derriere

Do my eyes remain closed
my breaths deep and steady
warming my back with your chest
luxuriating in the gentle intimacy
that rises with the dawn?

Or

Do I wriggle and tease
to hear your husky growl
and maneuver my thighs
so you can slide inside
the wet of my want
flaunting your fluency
with fuck words
describing graphic details
of how we're going to break
this day?

 

[29wordsforsnow]

You, Me, and Spades

a whole plate to myself
treats and sweets in spades
maybe too many for any lips to pass
and too close to those two
unaware
brazenly sharing bits
on fork tips
dripping
dangling
in the air
I breathe as well
drinking their glimpes, moony, already on floors above
feeding on the tingles in their fingertips
tasting the rustling thighs
inhaling the heat beneath their table
lost in the appetizer
how could I stand three more courses?
...and that was dinner only
breakfast conversation backbencher
how could you choose not me for the cup to drink from?
why not daub my tips with butter and jam?
yes, I envy you, you disdainfully crispy croissant
breathed upon
each syllable
whispered rumors
of kings and queens laid down
on divans you're going to see
- maybe
milk maidens
and
stable-lads
too -
seeing you both bagging sandwiches for the day
I wonder...

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

I wonder if my boredom
is as dry and cliche as all
these pieces of so called art
the echo of my steps resounds
in this pseudo-reality of knock off-junk

I sidle up to the first exhibit
it’s a chiseled man
his flaccid penis
dangling
immortalised in stone

I glance sideways
a sneer of contempt
slapped
from my face

I realise that amidst the
splashes of paint
sculpted bones
and imitations of flesh
there is beauty that should be revered
angels and devils must have fought for weeks to pluck the depths of
gorgeous-sinner and inscribe them into
a version of Aphrodite to walk
amongst mortals

we catch eyes and I joke
we should kill this
Fluro-pink assault to the eyeballs
with fire
we could dance around it
naked like heathens at a sacrifice
to the gods of all things pink
in the hope I’m blessed with some
flesh that doesn’t resemble a
beginners representation of

I read the tag

“Pink desire”

your laughter pearls out
and echoes back
as you touch my arm

we move to the next piece
and it’s more of the same dross
uninspired ideas about sex
by lovers
that don’t understand the grasping sex born of want and need

the spark of static builds as we
gently collide using our bodies to feel out and insinuate….

the last piece is in a closed room
proudly on display

it’s a wall of dicks
and I understand this piece

I sidle closer
my breath hot on your neck

I murmer

“If I was a wall and you were to brush past me, I believe this would be the result”

you step back a little
making sure your ass grazes
my erection
a small hiss escapes your lips

your hands flutter delicately
against your chest
flirtatious touches that are the prelude
to real drama that’s been building in a rumble of thunder and promise of rain

there’s a small fountain amidst this
wall of members stood at attention
its clear stream a mirror

I grasp your hand
you let me guide it
down
between your thighs
my broad back
shelters us a little from prying eyes
with a gentle tug
you slip your panties to the side

I touch the core of your wet-heat
realise that this place’s
dry art is subjective

I bid you take the lead
as we work a silent prayer to
the deities of fuck
a circle of infinity
until you break
in a shudder of climax
my eyes painted wide in
appraisal of your arched neck
your carotid artery’s pounding with life
the way your hair cascades over your
shoulders
your muscles taut
with orgasm shake against my body
the rattle of your necklace
a cacophony amidst the
silent watching of someone else’s fantasy

I am aware of beauty
in a way I never was before

How come I've missed this for 3 days? Sizzling hot!

 

[29wordsforsnow]

How come I've missed this forah, some one 3 days? Sizzling hot!

Ah, someone else missing a so-hot-it-melts-my-screen emoji

 

[29wordsforsnow]

It’s a little lacking but the angry face at least looks like it’s been burnt a little

Oh, come on, 'burnt' is really only second choice.

That protective rubber thing around my most precious input device starts to ignite below such a lousy temperature of shame of 300 degrees Celcius, but the Gorilla Skin of Transpareny makes it way above Two-Unbelievable-Thousand degrees Rankine before it even starts to soften.

So, nope, 'angry face' isn't even close to 'Mr Volcano God on summer vacation'.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Got that itch for days
smooth now by the razor's edge
after-shave care, two fingers high
puts some stubble on my tongue
a touch of beige bourbon baritone
pops up half a million tiny hills on your skin
kisses rain summer sweetness down on you
'More' lingers in my ears
strolling up your Everests
reconnoitering the Mariana Trench
until all its saltwater runs in my veins
adagio suave douche vengeance

 

[Piscator]

July 1969 - Neil Armstrong's Moon

I’m riding shotgun in her car
neath Neil Armstrong’s moon
radio plays that Animal’s song
but San Francisco's almost as
far from this humid Oklahoma
night as Neil Armstrong’s cold
moon yet maybe I’ll get
past second base tonight.

 

[EllenMore]

Sometimes, I simply want
to hold it, that hard muscle
that only seems to appear
when you look at my body
that particular way, as if

you are talking to my genes,
whispering about how sex
is what makes species
or some such nonsense
from some book about Darwin.

But I like the control
it gives me over your strength,
that I can just slip
my fingers along your length,
delight in the twist of your hips
wanting to buck into me. Yet

I know you're a little afraid
I'll just stop and go brush
my hair or feed the cat, leaving
you to finish by yourself
while I watch, bemused,
from the bedroom door. So

you let me stop and start
and stop again, tease
the shallow groove behind
the head--all slowly, slowly--
until suddenly you come
and I lick your warm semen
off of my contented hands.

 

[Piscator]

Sometimes, I simply want
to hold it, that hard muscle
that only seems to appear
when you look at my body
that particular way, as if

you are talking to my genes,
whispering about how sex
is what makes species
or some such nonsense
from some book about Darwin.

But I like the control
it gives me over your strength,
that I can just slip
my fingers along your length,
delight in the twist of your hips
wanting to buck into me. Yet

I know you're a little afraid
I'll just stop and go brush
my hair or feed the cat, leaving
you to finish by yourself
while I watch, bemused,
from the bedroom door. So

you let me stop and start
and stop again, tease
the shallow groove behind
the head--all slowly, slowly--
until suddenly you come
and I lick your warm semen
off of my contented hands.

Damn this is so good. I'm going back to writing limericks

 

[Piscator]

You can tell a lot about a man from his gun

Technically it's not really a muscle
although smooth muscle is involved
which I'll expand upon later.
It's more like a balloon except
the fluid maintaining turgor
pressure when it’s “hard”
is , not air, or water and
is maintained by a combination
of vasoconstriction and dilation
of the smooth muscle of the
appropriate blood vessels.

Unfortunately, it’s hardness
although affected by a range
of environmental, hormonal
emotional, physiological, and
physical factors is not under
voluntary control and it may
pop-up inappropriately
especially in adolescent males
while in older males, it sometimes
fails to show-up at all and
although there are drugs
that can help, they definitely
limit the spontaneity
of congress.

To get Darwinian about it
“Nature does not select
against toothlessness in
older males” and although
one of my back molars is
an implant, I cannot get
one down there.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Initiation

Even though it was
only weeks old,
our relationship was positive.

Young and new to sharing a bed
with a man, disrobing in front
of me was an obvious ordeal,
she was sweetly shy standing
by me as I lay in the waiting bed.

Bravely unpeeling her bra,
the contrast of her pale breasts
against her sun-blest body
hardened me even more.

I could see the nervous sweat
on her upper lip. Eyes lowered,
she slipped her last garment
to the floor.

Nipples pinched from the chill,
not yet from passion,
I threw back the covers,
and she accepted my invitation,
snuggling into my warmth.

Anticipation grew as her spicy
redolence reached my nose
and I knew she was ready.

 

[OtherMan]

Blushing heat as nips raw ear
then on to tender cheek
gushing meet as lip draws near
and tongue to send her weak

then loins enjoined in thrusting act
and eyes in locked adore,
our bodies melt in trusting pact…
as one we beg for more.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

In Concert

We both love classical music, but
I get aroused. Tonight,
it is Rachmaninoff
making me moist.

His arm rests next to mine,
pressing lightly against me
to remind me of his presence.
During a pause in the music,
he raises that arm to position it
on my shoulders, his hand rests
suggestively near my breast.

I want him to move it
just slightly, cup my breast,
feel my enthusiastic nipple
under the slide of my silk shirt
and know I am .his.

But, here we sit, basking
in magical music that weaves images
I am ashamed of in this austere place.

Our bodies, clothesless,
his arousal very obvious.
pressing into my back.
I can even smell the musk
of sex, the vision is so real.

The music ends.
The applause wakes me
to reality and we go home
where the music live
in my heart and we share
a bed.

 

[OtherMan]

No one will know what’s done to you.
You’re free to feel and fall.
I’ll tell you what you’re gonna do,
and you will do it all.

Submission to a firmer hand,
the leash of liquid play,
the smack on tightened skin will land,
the taste of flesh will sway.

Give up all will and willing want
to come when only told…
the tug, the pull, the teasing taunt…
the meekness meeting bold.

And when I’m done and latched onto
the collar needing show,
you’ll realize we’re matched in two…
and no one needs to know.

5/6/23

 

[OtherMan]

Heavy heaving suppled pleas
held in a needy chest…
released and leaving buckled knees
knelt with a greedy nest

that will has thrust and flung her out
still tasking for the touch,
and lips that burst with hungered pout…
still asking more and much.

5/7/23

 

[OtherMan]

Just giggle little princess girl
the world is yours, and all
the princes wish to give you whirl,
to wiggle at their call…

but king of all the dances pays
all players, knights, and fools
and he decides the goes, the stays,
the headless blood that cools.

5/9/23

 

[OtherMan]

The welt of lash you willing wear
a slowly fading brand
that marks as mine the pleasure there,
applied by owners hand

on bare the ass slash thrilling takes
once lowly, raising hips,
just undeserved now serving aches
and waits for praising lips.

5/10/23

 

[OtherMan]

Tongue flayed salt-soaked skin lays waiting,
enwrapped in wicked sheets -
she stays so cloaked and waits to mating…
saps summer’s licked heats.

Her taste is sun… light lotion browned…
her flesh secretes her want
that lubricates like ocean drowned…
as fresh the feast it taunts.

5/13/23