Another Of My Poems From My Banished Blog. I Love Finding These!

I love it when one of my poems from my deleted blog finds me!

Mad Love

and then you find yourself in that moment of madness when you not sure whether to pull away or press closer,  the pain pleasure,  and the pleasure pain.  Mad love. 

To The Man Whose Cum is In Her Mouth

You have it all wrong, thinking I have share her with you. Oh no. I have instead gifted her with your cock. A bit of pleasure, different enough to excite her, a fulfilling of her fantasies, with you as the bit actor, large enough, polite enough, willing to follow instructions, able to be watched without wilting, a man who appreciated what she is, from her curves to her breasts, to her uncommon tightness, and of course, her ability to take, even you, beyond her throat. No, she was not shared. What we have goes beyond anything you felt. Trust me. I know. We have done this before with different actors. And we will do it again.

I do not have to tell you how satisfying you were. Her orgasm tells that story. We are both glad you were all you advertised. All you promised. Too many are not. And now, should you see her on the streets of the city, you will know what lies underneath, what it feels like inside her, So tight it is like a fist grabbing and pumping, yet warm and slick and hungry. You will know her throat, all of it. And you will know me, beside her. taking her night after night, feeling all you felt, and more. Feeling the heart that makes her, her. Mine.

No my friend, she was not shared. You were given to her. That, and nothing more.

One of my poems from my deleted blog.

The power of submission

I look down to you on your knees,  this vibrant, powerful woman,  half dressed, submissive,  hungry, oh so hungry to please,  waiting for my touch,  waiting for my command and I am more than aroused.  I am humbled. 

Incredibly thought-provoking, viscerally intense! Appreciate you for your expressions 🙏🎈

Thank you!

After

After.

After. After it all. After the rough filling. The bruising of your softest tissues. The marks. The taking of more than your body. After one more orgasm than you believed possible. After you are left breathless and limp. Spent. After all that, still... the tiniest of smiles.

Truth and Belief

You are beautiful. The thing is that you do not have to believe it for it to be true.

A Different Kind of Art.

Stop. Just like that. Let me admire you a moment. Each curve. The position of submission. A moment of perfection before the passion is unleashed and you are made a different kind of art.

A Memory in Pink

She wore pink lingerie,

And I looked at her, no gazed at her

Like it was the first time.

That is the way it has always been with her,

Ever new. Perfect for all the reasons she believes

herself not to be.

Perhaps it was not on for long,

But it did not matter. She wore it for me,

knowing full well the effect the gift would have on me.

Passion enflamed. Senses suddenly vibrant.

Heart lost to her yet again. My heart touched

As much as my body.

It is true that she submits to me,

But I am forever lost in her.

Both of us, exactly as we should be.

I am slowly refinding some of my old poems from the pre-apocalypse, tumblr style.

Slow Burn

Tonight I will fill you slowly. 

My cock will push past the resistance of your swollen flesh

tortuously patient,  savoring every inch of your depths, 

every inch of your heat.  I will take the time to feel you, 

your wet warmth a tight embrace.  every nerve of my shaft

in ecstasy as you body surrenders it’s secrets. 

This too is control,  knowing your hunger,  knowing your desire to run amok with passion,  I take you on my terms,  a slow burn

desperately wanting to roar its heat, a bonfire of lust. 

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.