Summer Poetry Contest: Semi-Finals Voting (Poems 13-16)

[The Poets]

This thread includes Poems 13-16 for the Literotica summer poetry contest: Under the Boardwalk. Poets were asked to write an erotic poem about summer. Poems are posted in the order in which they were received. Use the poll to vote for your favorite in this thread.

This is a semi-finals voting round. There are a total of 20 entries, so there are five semi-final threads, each with four poems in it. Please vote for your favorite in each thread so everyone has a fair shot at winning! The five winning poems will go on to a finals round, winner takes all. The "all" will be awarded by Laurel and Manu, your friendly Literotica proprietors.

This thread is for voting only. If you have questions or just want to talk about the poems do so in the contest thread, not here. And remember, no public divulging of who wrote what until we have a winner!

Vote on poems 1-4 here.

Vote on poems 5-8 here.

Vote on poems 9-12 here.

Vote on poems 17-20 here.

Good luck everyone and thanks for taking part in the contest. s to all!

 

[The Poets]

Poem 13

Summer Fun in the Sun
by pinkcherry

Slow burn
Eyes like rays
X marks the G spot

Hot glare
Under the umbrella
Makes my heart palpitate,
Pulsate with anticipation

Sucking on ice
Clothing barely hanging on
Rolling in the grass beneath the plaid picnic blanket
Evading passers-by
While swaying, pumping, jerking, playing

Cascading like the beach waves
Urgent undulating
My sweat, wet release of summer joy

 

[The Poets]

Poem 14

ODE TO MY LOVE
by The_Rook

There she walks, glistening with a radiance
So bright, the sun can't but envy her skin;
The mellow blades of green grass dance in the breeze
In glee at her touch, as she dances akin.

She runs in magnificence with a sanguine allure;
Her bosoms hop in tandem with her elegant stride;
Waves of black hair adorn her back, just
short of her rump--a spectacle--my pride!

She turns; her longing eyes meet mine and lo,
The sky darkens fast with a sudden vigour;
The roaring wind threatens, but there she stands
and smiles, elegant in her naked valour.

And then she lies there on her back on the grass,
And spreads her legs as a bolt of light
Illuminates sharp her naked womanhood
in a sudden wild flash of blinding white.

Her fingers part her lips as the sky
thunders afresh; O Goddess divine,
if nature's herself thus aroused, then 'tis
a miracle that my cock's still mine!

With a violent surge of orgasmic delight,
The clouds, they start to heavily come,
As I gently kneel between her legs,
My hands in mad ecstasy, gone numb.

And I gently crawl upon her lustful frame
in the summer tempest, shivering and wet,
She shudders at my fervent touch and moans;
A moment so timeless, you can't ever forget.

 

[The Poets]

Poem 15

The Waterwheel
by spankingtheater

Water trickling, water gurgling
surging splashing, sploshy burbling
Wooden wheel, tirelessly turning
driven by cascading torrents churning

Naughty me, I’m quite undressed
Soft lush grass, bare feet caressed
A summer stroll, by gleaming brook
To my secret spanking nook

Passers-by would not believe
What devious imagination first conceived
Of harnessing pure water’s flow
To whack naughty bottoms so

I bend across the wooden bench
And slot the cane into the post
I feel it press upon my cheeks
Then the bit I love the most

On the wheel there is a peg
It lifts the cane and makes it creak
Up and up it bends until it slips
Whacking back to make me squeak

A short pause to catch my breath
Cane upon my stinging cheeks
The peg will soon be round again
Do any ever hear my shrieks?

Afterwards I love to lie
On the dewy riverbank under sky
Damp grass soothing poor pink bum
Slow filthy rubbing ‘til I come

Mesmerised by the turning wheel
I rub to the rhythm of the lifting cane
Massaging deep within my crack
Pleasure overwhelming pain
O how it bends, and then whips back
Where my bottom used to be
My ears fill with an imagined thwack
Until I’m swept away excitedly

At night I listen to the rain
A trillion raindrops fill my dream
Uniting, merging, dripping, surging
Into a torrential bottom smacking stream

 

[The Poets]

Poem 16 (Winner)

Behind the Girl in the Straw Hat
by butters

High-noon
and a slow, single bead
paints a copper line
over low stepping stones,
like the memory of water
in a dry river-bed
framed by a muscular valley.

Gravity has its way
pulls eyes
thoughts
to the peeking cleft,
the rolling hills,
where moisture slides
out of sight
to the dark and secret cave.