I Am Slowly Finding Some Of My Old Poems, And Old Friends, On Tumblr.

No Idea

I am not sure yet, that you understand just how long I will want you, love you. How many dreams I have of you. How rough, and how tender I want to be with you. How many fantasies, yours and mine both, are left to fulfill. How many times I want to watch you dress and undress. See you naked. See you from across the room and feel my pulse rise. You can not know how many orgasms, all in a day, I plan for you. How many men. Toys. Places. Some of them public. How many nights spent entwined with you I still crave. No matter how long is left for us, I will always want more. You have no idea.

The Real Things Never Die

At times you seem a dream.

Impossibly perfect, if not for the world,

At least for me. Every line and confession.

Every slowly strip tease and revelation

Kept so silent for so long. Released. Shared.

Trusted. Every curve just where my dreams would have them.

Every desire a mirror. Dreams that became hopes.

But, time and distance, pasts and vulnerabilities

Have their cost. And yet, even now, apart,

You seem a dream more real than a heart can stand

And I am left not knowing what is and is not,

Like a night lost in lust, so deep it feels like

A movie without a proper ending,

Real and not real and a little floundering,

Something vintage and yet somehow still vibrant.

Lust lives. Love lives. The real thing never dies.

I love finding my poems from my banned poetry site.

Not So Certain

Trust. One step further, then one step more, certain, but not so certain there is not a shiver at the touch of something unexpected, sharp as a knife, dangerous, and tender both.

What Only I Hear

Cry out. Shout. Gasp. Writhe.

Here you are mine and no one will hear your fear, your surprise or your surrender. You are mine. Now and forever.

Soul Love

And after they are done with you. And after I am done with you and you are cut down. No one except the one who knows you best (Me) could ever understand why you would fall to your knees and thank me.

Are you familiar with Literotica? If you are wanting a larger readership you may find it there.

I am, but I have to admit, I had not thought of them for a long time. Maybe I should submit a few things.

It's Always the Smile

in the end, it is always her smile. Not to disparage the rest of her, every line and curve and sway. The curls. The glint in her eye. But in the end, it is always the smile. Captivating. Always true. Sexier than a smile should be, you feel like a king, when she submits with that smile, and her subject when she devoirs you.

The Culmination of Assurance

It is the after. After the surrender. The taking. The sweet ravaging with all its pain and desire. After the orgasm. and the next orgasm and the last, forced orgasm, and we are both spent, and we fall together in silken tenderness, so sure of our love we could weep, this, the after, the culmination of assurance.

No Wonder

Even knowing what is about to be done to that mouth yet again, you smile. No wonder I adore you.

One of my poems from my deleted blog, found on someone else’s blog.

Wait. Watch.

Lay there.  Wait.  Watch  as I lay things out.  Flogger. Crop. Plug. More.  As I anticipate which pain, and where I will punish you with tonight.  As I anticipate what tender places I will penetrate, with what and how long,  and how hard.  Watch. See my smile.  See my shaft rise,  hard as stone.  Know,  you are mine,  helpless before my desire.