Everyday Erotica

Thanks Tristesse..don't think it's done though. I just felt like writing something.

you might not feel it's done, but by hell it's doing a lot! wonderful writing, original, tactile, delicious :cool:
 
‘genuine Romanian whore’
(illegal but not as illegal as Africans)
I speak good German and English
I come in French too

my headdress of wild black hair
thick and lush, a manicured explosion
bona fide olive skin, all the way up
beyond my bikini line

why not buy some time
check out my perfect breasts
give my buttocks a good hard slap
feel the velvet, how my clitoris is set

feel the strength in my ample thighs
experience my Cleopatra’s grip
my pubis pushing up to swallow
the man who gives me fire

come in French is a great line with the duality on the word "come" the whole final stanza in this has a seeming duality to a "whore" as this line

"the man who gives me fire"
Seems more like she is enjoying it as opposed to it being just a job. Enjoyed your last few bogus
 
It's been seven days of wilful
waiting, my sultry words
seemed absurd when spoken
we agreed together, a smile
at how easy it would be,

Hazel eyes glaze in memory
of a week that's been,
of messages that dip
inside,
make you quiver
want lust, surrender
but
the release we seek
withheld by our hands
as we try to ease those thoughts
from troubled minds
that harden and leak

sinuous and slick
even the phones vibration
is enough stimulation to
cause a tremble,

so many times naked
skin to skin but we wouldn't let in
hands massage your back and hips
on hands and knees
the tip of swollen sword rests upon
your open entrance the pain as
we abstain for another day
that turtle like edges closer

that lip bite,
almost tips me over the edge,
on the third day we nearly snapped
screamed and cracked
begged
but we had a plan

and here we are
hair dishevelled
our eyes level
inner fire consumes
exhumed from some
dirty place that we created,
Yes we collapse as addicts
giving in to some craving
the need

tension a tearing violin string
Shudder a stutter
flutter a quiver
our drug of choice

in a matter of moments your first
hit shatters
tremble shiver smatter and
scatters
droplets
a geyser erupts
the dam busts
and we
fried circuits, collapse
in smoking heat
of abstinent release

I happened to read your original post before you edited it. ;) This version has a very different feel from the first one. Safer.... Both of you are tempted but holding out until patience finally snaps, finally relief....

Why, though? Why not indulge when it would be so easy? Why not let the quivers and shudders eclipse the troubled minds?
 
I happened to read your original post before you edited it. ;) This version has a very different feel from the first one. Safer.... Both of you are tempted but holding out until patience finally snaps, finally relief....

Why, though? Why not indulge when it would be so easy? Why not let the quivers and shudders eclipse the troubled minds?

what happens when you mention the word diet? you immediately start craving food, so the moment you say abstinence, where does the mind go? that first entry is explosive *nods head*
 
what happens when you mention the word diet? you immediately start craving food, so the moment you say abstinence, where does the mind go? that first entry is explosive *nods head*

Ahhh, as long as you have a partner who craves it just as bad....I get it...
 
It's been seven days of wilful
waiting, my sultry words
seemed absurd when spoken
we agreed together, a smile
at how easy it would be,

Hazel eyes glaze in memory
of a week that's been,
of messages that dip
inside,
make you quiver
want lust, surrender
but
the release we seek
withheld by our hands
as we try to ease those thoughts
from troubled minds
that harden and leak

sinuous and slick
even the phones vibration
is enough stimulation to
cause a tremble,

so many times naked
skin to skin but we wouldn't let in
hands massage your back and hips
on hands and knees
the tip of swollen sword rests upon
your open entrance the pain as
we abstain for another day
that turtle like edges closer

that lip bite,
almost tips me over the edge,
on the third day we nearly snapped
screamed and cracked
begged
but we had a plan

and here we are
hair dishevelled
our eyes level
inner fire consumes
exhumed from some
dirty place that we created,
Yes we collapse as addicts
giving in to some craving
the need

tension a tearing violin string
Shudder a stutter
flutter a quiver
our drug of choice

in a matter of moments your first
hit shatters
tremble shiver smatter and
scatters
droplets
a geyser erupts
the dam busts
and we
fried circuits, collapse
in smoking heat
of abstinent release
Really Hot'n erotic Tod : as U know for an unashamed Spanko like me that " laughin' slap on the rump " was a Bonus but i also appreciate the value of erotic abstinence !! Bravo thnx for sharin' Tod !!!
 
Ice Maiden

A cold front
frigid and unmoving
Jagged edges sharper
than viper's tongue
Denying the sun
ever made her weep
or traced her curves

Adventurer surges forward
reaches for peak
Slides his pick
In hidden clef
Only to find it rendered useless

Even the "gent" who cut a hole
In her outlying skirts
Risked frostbite with the dip of his pole
In search of bigger fish to fry
 
Ice Maiden

A cold front
frigid and unmoving
Jagged edges sharper
than viper's tongue
Denying the sun
ever made her weep
or traced her curves

Adventurer surges forward
reaches for peak
Slides his pick
In hidden clef
Only to find it rendered useless

Even the "gent" who cut a hole
In her outlying skirts
Risked frostbite with the dip of his pole
In search of bigger fish to fry

I like this until the last 4 lines. I see that she's a glacier but the reference to the surrounding sea felt forced. The quotes around gent make it stand out without obvious (at least to me) purpose. Also, I realize you're going for the ice fisherman and "drilled" instead of "cut a hole" would work better if you also used "her underlying depths" instead of "her outlying skirts". Eh, just suggestions. Maybe quicker minds will have more insight.
 
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I like this until the last 4 lines. I see that she's a glacier but the reference to the surrounding sea felt forced. The quotes around gent make it stand out without obvious (at least to me) purpose. Also, I realize you're going for the ice fisherman and "drilled" instead of "cut a hole" would work better if you also used "her underlying depths" instead of "her outlying skirts". Eh, just suggestions. Maybe quicker minds will have more insight.

Awesome suggestions. I definitely like them. It started out as a flippant bout of pure sarcasm (retaliation to an insult...cold, frigid etc.) but somewhere the first few lines took on a more serious note.

How's this....

Even the gent who drills a hole
Into her underlying depths
Risks frostbite as he dips his pole
For nothing but cold fish
 
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Awesome suggestions. I definitely like them. It started out as a flippant bout of pure sarcasm (retaliation to an insult...cold, frigid etc.) but somewhere the first few lines took on a more serious note.

How's this....

Even the gent who drills a hole
Into her underlying depths
Risks frostbite as he dips his pole
For nothing but cold fish

I like that!
 
The adventurer being what and who he is
attacked her with sharp picks and prying sticks
clumsy tools to try and pry her open
ice is hard, unforgiving
even when shards are sheared,
and the chunks turn to tears

the bits torn off sharpen, threaten
poor cretin didn't know what hit him
the gent in question should have learnt
a lesson
that ice melts with
fire or heat,

you don't try to beat it into submission,
lead it into the touch of spring
thaw the core till dripping melt
and the water felt
is a place to call home,
and though the ice may return
your touch will hold in the warmth.

Tods, you are a riff master. ~bowing down~. ;)
 
Ice Maiden

A cold front
frigid and unmoving
Jagged edges sharper
than viper's tongue
Denying the sun
ever made her weep
or traced her curves

Adventurer surges forward
reaches for peak
Slides his pick
In hidden clef
Only to find it rendered useless

Even the "gent" who cut a hole
In her outlying skirts
Risked frostbite with the dip of his pole
In search of bigger fish to fry

Oh, I like this, and Trix's suggestions, too. For some reason I wanted a "Bold" in front of "adventurer" (s2l1). Disregard. :D
 
There was sun on that face,
glinting off the stubbled chin,
with our mischief always in eye;
an electric brush against saltwater skin
kickstart the ignition
and glimpse that first kiss in your mind
for a moment,
brief,
my face flushes red.
 
I remember the blush that bloomed
and knew exactly what you
we're weighing up
head in your hands
how would that fit
this smooth textured beast
the look in your eyes screamed yes
your body hesitated
my beg and groan
growled through
animal vocal chords

your nipples hardened like a quarter roll of coins
resistance wilted, a fresh picked
frangipanni in scorching sun
hands in your hair

and there was a moment
A fraction when
it wouldn't

then that liquid slide
of boiled heat
a sigh in triumph
nothing torn in crush velvet
satin depths

As we ride into rain.

Ok, nice subtle work there! I've read it three times and still can't decide if you're referring to back door lovin' or the more vanilla variety. I like subtly like that. Sexy and open to interpretation. Again, good work.
 
Ok, nice subtle work there! I've read it three times and still can't decide if you're referring to back door lovin' or the more vanilla variety. I like subtly like that. Sexy and open to interpretation. Again, good work.

which ever you prefer, part of the reason its open :D
 
Intimate Letters
—Leoš Janáček to Kamila Stösslová

She's young and slim, his hair is gray,
and each is wed to someone else.
One wonders what they have to say

in all these letters, day by day—
do they discuss his several faults?
She's young. And slim. His hair is gray

and thinning, often disarrayed.
He writes for her a lilting waltz;
she wonders what he means to say

with swirling melody—essay
her love, her bed? Make quick her pulse?
She's young and slim. He's very gray

when she is elsewhere, faraway.
His heart, though old, is no way false.
One wonders what she has to say

to this old man under her sway.
Though she's the bloom, it's he who wilts.
She' s young, she's slim; he's simply gray.
One wonders what it is they say.
 
I don't often
think of your clothing. Just
in those times I think of how
you might remove it in
the long shadows of sunset,
lit by low and purplish light
in a cabin on several acres
so there is no need for
curtains or blinds, your
body, there suddenly warm
as a fire laid against the evening,
and all I have to do is
nestle against the smoothed rock
of your muscles, the long line
of your torso, and sleep.

As if, lying thus, I could

..........well,

....sleep.
 
How I Would Like to Love You

would be over coffee or tea
in some local bar where
we not only could talk, but

where I could stare at
your breasts, absently,
as if thinking about angels or God.

I would sip my macchiato
with pursed lips
always thinking of

how well they would mate
to yours, even
when you want to talk too much

about that charity I gave money to,
because I wanted
you to let me get between

your fabulous thighs
and, well, because I kind of agreed
with your cause anyway.
 
How I would like to love him

My alarm would be
the buckle of his jeans
pulled on from the floor
I’d watch with a lazy eye
Knowing that while I’ve
Slept through breakfast
I can have him at lunch
and dinner.

I'd fall back asleep happily,
knowing where my next meal
was coming from.
 
Rite

It's not really magic, just
physiology, when you bring
about my startled release

with only your steady hand,
your studied tongue. But
still, it is some kind of Mystery

in which you are the adept
and I am just your offering
in my long, ecstatic swoon.
 
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