The Art of Getting Lit Laid

[Carmina24]

You really need to write a book. Don't deny the world your genius.

Awww....you're so sweet!

 

[Carmina24]

Beast Mode

At first she was soft. Hands like questions, voice like a lamp left burning - warm, steady, careful of edges. You learned the map of her gentleness: how she eased you back from corners, how she cupped small fears and smoothed them with thumb and laugh.

Then play came. Little fires, always at the rim: a look that lingered too long, a grazed shoulder that stayed, a joke that landed like a promise. You flirted with the heat together, testing the border - two careful trespassers circling the flame. It was electric, delicious; you both stepped to the edge and stepped back, grinning at your own restraint.

You wanted it. She wanted it. You both named the want in looks and half-words and hands that might have meant more if they'd been braver. But something kept both of you tethered: timing, fear, habit, civility. So the play continued - close enough to dream of burning, far enough to not be singed.

Until waiting broke.

One day, patience split like brittle wood. The longing that had been coiled in the quiet places unspooled and became a hunger. Her eyes stopped flirting and started deciding. The coyness fell away like ash.

She stalked you then - not with the softness you knew, but with a hunger that had been waiting for permission and, having waited long enough, gave itself that permission. Her hands grip you, not gentle this time but claiming: nails dragging, breath driving, mouth taking and leaving a heat you can’t name. Her body crushes the space between you until there is no retreat, only the relentless press of her will.

This is her Beast Mode.

Not an accident. Not a tantrum.
A chosen, carnal verdict.

And you - you do not fear her.
The beast does not terrify you. It ignites you.

So you tilt your chin, bare your throat, and meet the growl with your surrender.
Not because you must, but because you want to.

Because to be devoured by her is no defeat.
It is the victory you’ve been waiting for.

 

[jacfox]

Beast Mode

At first she was soft. Hands like questions, voice like a lamp left burning - warm, steady, careful of edges. You learned the map of her gentleness: how she eased you back from corners, how she cupped small fears and smoothed them with thumb and laugh.

Then play came. Little fires, always at the rim: a look that lingered too long, a grazed shoulder that stayed, a joke that landed like a promise. You flirted with the heat together, testing the border - two careful trespassers circling the flame. It was electric, delicious; you both stepped to the edge and stepped back, grinning at your own restraint.

You wanted it. She wanted it. You both named the want in looks and half-words and hands that might have meant more if they'd been braver. But something kept both of you tethered: timing, fear, habit, civility. So the play continued - close enough to dream of burning, far enough to not be singed.

Until waiting broke.

One day, patience split like brittle wood. The longing that had been coiled in the quiet places unspooled and became a hunger. Her eyes stopped flirting and started deciding. The coyness fell away like ash.

She stalked you then - not with the softness you knew, but with a hunger that had been waiting for permission and, having waited long enough, gave itself that permission. Her hands grip you, not gentle this time but claiming: nails dragging, breath driving, mouth taking and leaving a heat you can’t name. Her body crushes the space between you until there is no retreat, only the relentless press of her will.

This is her Beast Mode.

Not an accident. Not a tantrum.
A chosen, carnal verdict.

And you - you do not fear her.
The beast does not terrify you. It ignites you.

So you tilt your chin, bare your throat, and meet the growl with your surrender.
Not because you must, but because you want to.

Because to be devoured by her is no defeat.
It is the victory you’ve been waiting for.

You just get better and better...

 

[subdudeme13]

I agree. So here is my response.

Robin

Not everyone is meant to stand in the spotlight.
Some of us are Robin.

We fight just as hard, though our name isn’t the one etched in neon.
We show up in shadows, in silence, in the small corners of the day where nobody’s watching.
We steady the chaos, stitch the cracks, and take the blows no one else sees.

And we don’t need to fight villains to be a hero.
We’re a hero when we show up for work.
When we do the laundry.
When we sweep the floor.
When we care for family.
When we bring joy to a Lit partner.

And maybe the world won’t ever call us “hero.”
Maybe there won’t be statues or headlines or songs.

But the truth is - it was never about the world.
It’s about us.
Knowing that our worth is not measured in applause.
That even without recognition, we are still fighting, still building, still saving.

Robin is not “less.”
Robin is essential.

And when the mirror dares to ask who I am -
I bare my teeth and snarl back:
I am the damn hero.

Where is spyder woman

Beast Mode

At first she was soft. Hands like questions, voice like a lamp left burning - warm, steady, careful of edges. You learned the map of her gentleness: how she eased you back from corners, how she cupped small fears and smoothed them with thumb and laugh.

Then play came. Little fires, always at the rim: a look that lingered too long, a grazed shoulder that stayed, a joke that landed like a promise. You flirted with the heat together, testing the border - two careful trespassers circling the flame. It was electric, delicious; you both stepped to the edge and stepped back, grinning at your own restraint.

You wanted it. She wanted it. You both named the want in looks and half-words and hands that might have meant more if they'd been braver. But something kept both of you tethered: timing, fear, habit, civility. So the play continued - close enough to dream of burning, far enough to not be singed.

Until waiting broke.

One day, patience split like brittle wood. The longing that had been coiled in the quiet places unspooled and became a hunger. Her eyes stopped flirting and started deciding. The coyness fell away like ash.

She stalked you then - not with the softness you knew, but with a hunger that had been waiting for permission and, having waited long enough, gave itself that permission. Her hands grip you, not gentle this time but claiming: nails dragging, breath driving, mouth taking and leaving a heat you can’t name. Her body crushes the space between you until there is no retreat, only the relentless press of her will.

This is her Beast Mode.

Not an accident. Not a tantrum.
A chosen, carnal verdict.

And you - you do not fear her.
The beast does not terrify you. It ignites you.

So you tilt your chin, bare your throat, and meet the growl with your surrender.
Not because you must, but because you want to.

Because to be devoured by her is no defeat.
It is the victory you’ve been waiting for.

Be still my soul

 

[subdudeme13]

You just get better and better...

My heart is beating! She weaves a web of words.

 

[subdudeme13]

Beast Mode

At first she was soft. Hands like questions, voice like a lamp left burning - warm, steady, careful of edges. You learned the map of her gentleness: how she eased you back from corners, how she cupped small fears and smoothed them with thumb and laugh.

Then play came. Little fires, always at the rim: a look that lingered too long, a grazed shoulder that stayed, a joke that landed like a promise. You flirted with the heat together, testing the border - two careful trespassers circling the flame. It was electric, delicious; you both stepped to the edge and stepped back, grinning at your own restraint.

You wanted it. She wanted it. You both named the want in looks and half-words and hands that might have meant more if they'd been braver. But something kept both of you tethered: timing, fear, habit, civility. So the play continued - close enough to dream of burning, far enough to not be singed.

Until waiting broke.

One day, patience split like brittle wood. The longing that had been coiled in the quiet places unspooled and became a hunger. Her eyes stopped flirting and started deciding. The coyness fell away like ash.

She stalked you then - not with the softness you knew, but with a hunger that had been waiting for permission and, having waited long enough, gave itself that permission. Her hands grip you, not gentle this time but claiming: nails dragging, breath driving, mouth taking and leaving a heat you can’t name. Her body crushes the space between you until there is no retreat, only the relentless press of her will.

This is her Beast Mode.

Not an accident. Not a tantrum.
A chosen, carnal verdict.

And you - you do not fear her.
The beast does not terrify you. It ignites you.

So you tilt your chin, bare your throat, and meet the growl with your surrender.
Not because you must, but because you want to.

Because to be devoured by her is no defeat.
It is the victory you’ve been waiting for.

Take me!

 

[Hornymwtxn]

Timid
---------

At first we dance slowly
Unsure how we will be recieved

A subtle hint
A word accepted, as given
Judgments tossed aside
Intoxicating revelations imbibed

Experiences and desires shared
Lack of touch, distance overcome
Knowledge freely shared
Connection strengthened, tempered, honed
The mirror reveals things never seen before
We stand, mirrors in hand, facing each other

 

[Carmina24]

Timid
---------

At first we dance slowly
Unsure how we will be recieved

A subtle hint
A word accepted, as given
Judgments tossed aside
Intoxicating revelations imbibed

Experiences and desires shared
Lack of touch, distance overcome
Knowledge freely shared
Connection strengthened, tempered, honed
The mirror reveals things never seen before
We stand, mirrors in hand, facing each other

This is lovely, @Hornymwtxn !

 

[Carmina24]

My Pink Blanket and You

I wake up with thoughts of you.
I fall asleep the same way - wrapped in my pink blanket, wrapped in you.

Desire tangled with tenderness, refusing to let time zones keep us apart.
Good mornings blur into good evenings, until the day is nothing but you.

You slice meat at the deli, placing orders with steady hands - careful not to nick yourself again while shaving.
I juggle my day job and night job, moving through hours with the thought of you threaded through every task.

And when you are out on the boat, catching shrimp and crabs, I wait at home - wrapped in my blanket, whispering to the waves for your safe return.

Willy the bear and Wally the alligator keep us company - our little guardians, silent witnesses to everything we share.

Even when oceans stretch between us, I am still wrapped in my pink blanket.
Still wrapped in you.

 

[jacfox]

I'm feeling a bit tender and gentle just now:

Tears of Joy

We touch in accidental ways
A lucky word
A lingering gaze
But of all the gifts we give
Through all our days
The kiss of a tear
May set you ablaze
As surely as the touch of a hand
A word of praise

Reach another’s mind
Solve the maze
Of life’s hard lessons
Emerge from your daze
Unite with another
Bodies and spirits raise
And if a tear should fall
Cherish the joy it says
Your unexpected lover feels
When down with you she lays

 

[Wwwajr666]

My Pink Blanket and You

I wake up with thoughts of you.
I fall asleep the same way - wrapped in my pink blanket, wrapped in you.

Desire tangled with tenderness, refusing to let time zones keep us apart.
Good mornings blur into good evenings, until the day is nothing but you.

You slice meat at the deli, placing orders with steady hands - careful not to nick yourself again while shaving.
I juggle my day job and night job, moving through hours with the thought of you threaded through every task.

And when you are out on the boat, catching shrimp and crabs, I wait at home - wrapped in my blanket, whispering to the waves for your safe return.

Willy the bear and Wally the alligator keep us company - our little guardians, silent witnesses to everything we share.

Even when oceans stretch between us, I am still wrapped in my pink blanket.
Still wrapped in you.

 

[Carmina24]

THIS IS WAR

Who the hell do you think you are, disappearing like that?
You pull the stunt again - show up halfway, then bail. Not tonight. Not anymore.
You think you can leave me hanging? Get the hell back here!

Don’t give me your excuses. Don’t say “later.” Don’t whisper “just one more.” I’ve heard it a thousand times.
You’re done playing games with me. I’m done being played.

Stand up. Face me. Say it to my face.
I will call you out. I will drag this out until you answer.
I will not stop. I will not back down. I will make you stay.

I’m not negotiating. I’m not bargaining. I’m coming at you full force.

You run, I chase. You stall, I force the decision. You dodge, I pin you down and I don’t let go.
This is not cute. This is not flirting. This is a full-scale takedown.

So show your face. Show up like you mean it. Bring whatever tricks you’ve got.
I’m loud. I’m ruthless. I’m ready for battle.
This is WAR.

I’m talking to you, SLEEP!

 

[Hornymwtxn]

THIS IS WAR

Who the hell do you think you are, disappearing like that?
You pull the stunt again - show up halfway, then bail. Not tonight. Not anymore.
You think you can leave me hanging? Get the hell back here!

Don’t give me your excuses. Don’t say “later.” Don’t whisper “just one more.” I’ve heard it a thousand times.
You’re done playing games with me. I’m done being played.

Stand up. Face me. Say it to my face.
I will call you out. I will drag this out until you answer.
I will not stop. I will not back down. I will make you stay.

I’m not negotiating. I’m not bargaining. I’m coming at you full force.

You run, I chase. You stall, I force the decision. You dodge, I pin you down and I don’t let go.
This is not cute. This is not flirting. This is a full-scale takedown.

So show your face. Show up like you mean it. Bring whatever tricks you’ve got.
I’m loud. I’m ruthless. I’m ready for battle.
This is WAR.

I’m talking to you, SLEEP!

Would not be a bad thing to be pinned down by @Carmina24


Fuck, I would probably beg for it to happen again and again and again

 

[subdudeme13]

Would not be a bad thing to be pinned down by @Carmina24


Fuck, I would probably beg for it to happen again and again and again

My feelings precisely.

 

[jacfox]

Dreamwoman

Who is she
This woman in my dreams?
I strain to hear her
Find if she’s what she seems

My heart is racing
My chest so full
Will I be enough?
Not too dull?

She’s there, so close
I feel her breath
Her skin, her warmth,
Her lips, her breasts

I can’t hold back
My need will burst
Never mind my ruin
Come, do your worst

Come…

 

[Finger8]

Good Morning

It is early morning. He has thirty minutes left to sleep - but the day will not begin with the shrill cry of an alarm.

It will begin with the ache in his manhood, cradled in my hand, and the shock of my gaze holding his as he wakes.

I sink onto him, taking every inch,
rolling my hips in a slow, relentless rhythm that drags him out of sleep
and into a storm of heat and pleasure.

And when release finds him, he will know -
this is my way of saying good morning.

Now that is a preferable way to start the day. Sign me up.

 

[Carmina24]

Now that is a preferable way to start the day. Sign me up.

There's a Google form.
Please note that the service provider may be male or female (mostly male). Lol

 

[Carmina24]

Bring It On

I lost the last battle.
Yeah - you beat me. You slipped in, stole my hours, left me groggy and half-alive the next day. I went to work like a zombie and called it “fine.” I let you win.

Not this time.

You think that makes you clever? That makes you arrogant. You got away with it once. Maybe twice. Maybe more. Not anymore.

I learned your moves. I watched where you crawl in - the late scroll, the “one more” itch, the soft glow of the screen. I learned where you hide - under blankets, behind excuses, in the tiny comforts you use as camouflage.

This is different now. I’m sharper. I’ve set traps. I’ve got alarms, blackout curtains (ok fine, Manila paper), a list of consequences, and a plan that doesn’t include “just one more.”
When you come for me tonight, I will meet you with strategy, not resignation.

You’ll try your tricks. I’ll counter them. You’ll whisper promises - I’ll record them as threats.
You’ll think you can take me down with nostalgia and tiredness. I’ve reinforced my will.

You won the last fight. Consider that a lesson, not a pattern.
This round? You won’t get what you want. Not tonight. Not ever again by habit.

I’m calling the shots now. I’m taking the field. Bring it, Sleep - but know this: I’m ready, I’m armed, and I will not fold.

See you on the battlefield.

 

[Hornymwtxn]

Bring It On

I lost the last battle.
Yeah - you beat me. You slipped in, stole my hours, left me groggy and half-alive the next day. I went to work like a zombie and called it “fine.” I let you win.

Not this time.

You think that makes you clever? That makes you arrogant. You got away with it once. Maybe twice. Maybe more. Not anymore.

I learned your moves. I watched where you crawl in - the late scroll, the “one more” itch, the soft glow of the screen. I learned where you hide - under blankets, behind excuses, in the tiny comforts you use as camouflage.

This is different now. I’m sharper. I’ve set traps. I’ve got alarms, blackout curtains (ok fine, Manila paper), a list of consequences, and a plan that doesn’t include “just one more.”
When you come for me tonight, I will meet you with strategy, not resignation.

You’ll try your tricks. I’ll counter them. You’ll whisper promises - I’ll record them as threats.
You’ll think you can take me down with nostalgia and tiredness. I’ve reinforced my will.

You won the last fight. Consider that a lesson, not a pattern.
This round? You won’t get what you want. Not tonight. Not ever again by habit.

I’m calling the shots now. I’m taking the field. Bring it, Sleep - but know this: I’m ready, I’m armed, and I will not fold.

See you on the battlefield.

Atta girl!

 

[Carmina24]

Bewitched

I get lost in your eyes,
and in that endless sky I find myself reborn.

They are constellations -
threads of light binding me to your gravity,
drawing me closer with every glance.

What is this magic you weave?
How is it that a single look
can turn silence into music,
darkness into stars?

Even the heavens grow jealous,
for your gaze sings arias across my soul-
a chorus of galaxies,
a symphony of light.

I drift through your eyes
as if the universe hid its secrets there,
and I am the seeker,
spellbound, surrendered,
forever bewitched.

 

[Hornymwtxn]

Bring It On

I lost the last battle.
Yeah - you beat me. You slipped in, stole my hours, left me groggy and half-alive the next day. I went to work like a zombie and called it “fine.” I let you win.

Not this time.

You think that makes you clever? That makes you arrogant. You got away with it once. Maybe twice. Maybe more. Not anymore.

I learned your moves. I watched where you crawl in - the late scroll, the “one more” itch, the soft glow of the screen. I learned where you hide - under blankets, behind excuses, in the tiny comforts you use as camouflage.

This is different now. I’m sharper. I’ve set traps. I’ve got alarms, blackout curtains (ok fine, Manila paper), a list of consequences, and a plan that doesn’t include “just one more.”
When you come for me tonight, I will meet you with strategy, not resignation.

You’ll try your tricks. I’ll counter them. You’ll whisper promises - I’ll record them as threats.
You’ll think you can take me down with nostalgia and tiredness. I’ve reinforced my will.

You won the last fight. Consider that a lesson, not a pattern.
This round? You won’t get what you want. Not tonight. Not ever again by habit.

I’m calling the shots now. I’m taking the field. Bring it, Sleep - but know this: I’m ready, I’m armed, and I will not fold.

See you on the battlefield.

This fight won't be won through brawn but in cunning and skill and sheer want to

 

[Carmina24]

This fight won't be won through brawn but in cunning and skill and sheer want to

Coffee is normally in my arsenal, but in this case, I go to the battlefield alone

 

[Carmina24]

Your Red Underwear with the Bow

I can’t take you seriously.
Not when you show up in that.

Bright red briefs -
as if Valentine’s Day and Christmas had a secret love child -
topped with a bow like you’re the world’s spiciest present.

What am I supposed to do?
Untie it gently?
Rip it off like wrapping paper?
Or just laugh because honestly,
who wakes up and decides,
“Today I’m going full gift package mode”?

And yet…
here I am, grinning,
totally undone -
by your red underwear with the bow.
https://ibb.co/Mxw93PLs

 

[subdudeme13]

Your Red Underwear with the Bow

I can’t take you seriously.
Not when you show up in that.

Bright red briefs -
as if Valentine’s Day and Christmas had a secret love child -
topped with a bow like you’re the world’s spiciest present.

What am I supposed to do?
Untie it gently?
Rip it off like wrapping paper?
Or just laugh because honestly,
who wakes up and decides,
“Today I’m going full gift package mode”?

And yet…
here I am, grinning,
totally undone -
by your red underwear with the bow.
https://ibb.co/4kf0W1r

You are at it again! Where do you find the words?

 

[Obeylily]

Nothing beats Freedom,i hope its safe to drop an art that shows love involving myself and my cat