Thursday, May 31, 2012

Because


Because
The thought of you
This passion for you
Still tear this woman to shreds

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Autumn’s Chill


The night is cold
Its darkness lonely
The warm softness of this body
Too great to bear

Sunday, May 20, 2012

With the Body

The words they escape me, elude me, confound me as if language itself has refused me, forbidding my entry, casting me out to the wet and the cold and the shadows, banishing me to the silent periphery, coercing this confrontation not with the mind but instead with the body, with the body, with the body, with its meat and its bones and its blood coursing, pounding, with the body, with my body, with its pulse, its rhythm, its yearnings base, primal and erotic, with this body, with this flesh, with this body I thee worship, with this flesh bare, exposed and hungering, with this flesh lusting, with this flesh needing, with this flesh riven, undone, moments from its devastation, with its flesh that weeps, that seeps, that soaks, that fills the room with my sweet, pungent femininity, with this body, with this flesh, with its desire, with its desire violent, lawless, on this night unendurable, with its desire to be opened, to be revealed, to be savoured and devoured by mouth and tongue and hands and glans thick, hard and burning, with its desire to be touched, to be embraced, to be released and then imprisoned, to be at one with a considered, languid sensuality, with its desire for man, for the power only he can bear upon me, with its desire for man, for him, for you, for you to see me, to look down on me, for you to drown in my gaze as you sink yourself, wrap yourself, find yourself in, around, about me.

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

The Darkness in the Light


Each time we walk away, each time we part, I am lost, lost to myself, to the heat and heart of my desire, bare and adrift in the sensory deep, this body longing, yearning for your landfall, this mind myopic, these lips unable to articulate, this woman finding only darkness in the light.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Blue


Without you
Filling the space beside me
The secret ache inside me
There is nothing
Nothing
But the blue

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Scent




































Somehow, his scent lingers in the cuff, the heady mix of his cologne and his unique musk clinging to the luxurious towelling threads even after their purification in the water and the wind and the hot midday sun, enticing her to inhale deeply this reminder, to draw in his remainder, compelling her supple body to wake, to reach out, to crave his primal urgencies and lingering sensualities anew.

Monday, April 30, 2012

Jump Cut

Fitful sleep. A night of sirens, police choppers, climbing, roaring, planes. Tossing, turning, this weary body unable to rest. Sleep, sweet sleep, but only for a few precious moments, awoken again by the shadows clawing, touching, dancing across the walls. Waking at dawn, eyes stinging from little slumber, the birds singing, intermittently breaking the silence of the world around me safely tucked up in its bed.

And now, now, a restlessness born from the phantoms of the night, from the visions of the figure hovering over me, and now, now, a disquiet born from this yearning, this craving constant, unerring to have you, to have you, to have you in my bed, to have your hands on my body, to have you in my sex, to have you in every way I imagine, in every way I’ll never forget, in all the ways that hurtle through this mind, this body, this sexual soul, the images, the visions, whirring, racing, my fingers seeking out the soft, aching centres of pure sensation, the images, the visions flashing, rushing, jump cuts, time fragmented, space morphed, broken, each scene barely lingering, there and gone before it is present, an assault on my senses, scent and tang and the musk of naked bodies, the light, the darkness, the dim afternoon, that sultry jazz ballad weaving, binding us together, the rain splattering, the storm raging, the sun blistering our skin, your tongue tracing the outline of my lips, the kiss gentle then bruising, our mouths mashed together, hungry, devouring, clothes torn, shredded, your strength bending me backwards, bending me over the arm of the sofa, my breasts pressed into the table cold and wooden, your cockhead teasing my clitoris, your thumb feeding itself into my mouth, my lips and tongue suckling, devouring, fellating, craving most of all the cock standing proud between your legs, the collision of flesh, flesh on flesh, man in woman in a heated, carnal frenzy, my hand around your cock sliding you effortlessly into my hot, plump sodden cunt, my back arching, my legs wrapped tight around your waist, rubbing, sliding, sweat fusing, separating, our bodies on the floor fucking hard and mad and loud, my body beneath you, rising up to meet you, to have you inside me, another part of me, your cock swallowed by my cunt, your thick hard shaft teasing, gliding between the impossibly smooth dripping lips of my sex, my tongue licking the pearl of precum nestled in your head, your hand inside my panties as the movie screen flickers, as the sound booms around us, your fingers pressing inside me, curled and tucked, fucking me, killing me softly, my mouth moaning into the cock gliding between my lips, sucking you, willing you to come, willing your come to rise up and drown and mark and own me, your face between my legs, on your knees, licking and eating my cunt in that dark sheltered alleyway, the bustle of the city just a few short metres away, your eyes, your face, your mouth, your words of lust whispered hotly into my ear, your stubble on my neck, on my thighs, the globes of my arse, your flesh buried deep inside that forbidden virginal place, your flesh buried deep, deep, so deep, finding that little death and once again life, your flesh, your flesh, your come, my own fingers a fucking, fingering blur, my body spread out, this body breaking, my gasp, my moan, your name, my cry, your name ringing out, shattering, shattering the hush, demolishing the bricks and mortar of this haunted little room.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

In the Midnight Dark

I search for you, wait for you in the night, this body reaching, reaching through the shadows, reaching for the man, the one, for you, this woman crying for the sweet kiss of your heat, for the communion of our flesh, for the meeting of desire, for the sensual, the lingering, for the frenzied, intimate embrace, for the shelter, the danger, for the forbidden pleasures of the midnight dark.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Temptation

  
You
Always will be
My greatest
My only
Temptation

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Afterglow

It is only once your eyes, your lips, your hands are upon me, revealing my secrets, the mysteries of my most intimate flesh, it is only once we are joined here together, man plus woman, skin on skin, sex in sex, it is only once you bathe me in your heat, your sweat, your essence, your shimmering afterglow, does this want, this need, this lustful passion of mine make any sense.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Beauty Spot

He stands against the door, spellbound by the body on the bed, transfixed by the contrast of the black lingerie drawn tight against her fair skin, the delicate fingers slowly drawing down the cups of lace, the pert breasts topped with the palest pink and the crimson peaks he longs to take in turn between his lips, the creamy thighs splaying themselves languorously, the slender stockinged legs leading the way to the bloom demurely revealing itself, the petals throbbing, fluttering, glistening, the scarlet core dripping its sweet nectar, leaving him in no doubt of her desire.

Snapped out of his voyeuristic daze by her moan, he approaches with a composure at odds with the beast rising up inside him, with the primal urge to unzip himself, exposing the thick, insistent flesh between his legs and plunging it into the depths of her searing heat in one selfish stroke that would have her crying out his name in an instant.

Rather than giving in to this urgency – an urgency he now senses within her also as her scent begins to overpower the room – his gaze continues its teasing caress, travelling over the detail of the blue eyes with their long ebony lashes, the full sensuous mouth demanding to be kissed, the line of her neck, the hollow of her collarbone, the swell of her abdomen, the flare of her hips. And the two heart-shaped spots of beauty on her inner left thigh.

As his large hands finally take hold of her, sliding along the entire length of her body, up and down, down and up, her raspy breath the sweetest song, he makes a mental note to kiss the little twin hearts, tenderly, sensually, after he has fucked her with long, strong thrusts, after she has shuddered and screamed, begging for more, pleading him to stop, to kiss the little twin hearts, tenderly, sensually, after she has come hotly over his naked cock, after he has erupted with a violence that nearly tears him apart, to kiss the little twin hearts, tenderly, sensually, before leaving by their side his own unique and indelible mark.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Captivate






































With your gentle touch, you soothe, seduce, you captivate. With your urgency, the force of your lust, you hold me in your palm, immobilise, you pin me hard, this woman a willing captive in wait.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Show

I long for you, I long to see you, right here, right now, right at this very moment, I long to see you stripped bare, your sartorial elegance reduced to a pile on the parquetry, your deep dark eyes on mine, your skin glowing, your imposing nakedness glistening, the low light dancing off the dark curls shadowing your body as you stand before me, as you touch yourself, as you stroke yourself for me, your muscular legs framing, your hips swaying, your forearm taut as you control, as you seduce the burnished glans in your fist.

Would you do that for me? Would you stroke your cock for me?

Would you allow me to watch you, would you allow this exhibitionist turned voyeur to sit in that armchair in the corner of my room clad in nothing but the black suspenders and stockings that dig deliciously into my lily white skin? Would you permit me to watch you stroke your throbbing shaft, your fingers easing back the foreskin, your thumb circling your oozing cockhead, your hand cupping your laden balls? Would you let me watch you, my sapphire gaze heavy with desire, skimming over your body, committing to memory every detail, my ears drowning in the sound of your breath, your voice, your affirmations, your groans as your take yourself to the edge? Would you let me watch you as I tease my own flesh, this body shivering, aching as I sink two fingers into my slick cunt, as I circle the plumpness of my clitoris, as I tease the rosy peaks of my fair breasts? Would you allow me to watch you, to watch you stroke yourself before I close the space between us, before my delicate hand pushes yours aside to take over, before my fingers are drenched in your heat, your scent? Would you stroke yourself for me, erupting loudly, violently only once I can bear the torture no longer, once I plead for you to come, once I beg for your come, your seed raining down upon my breasts, my belly, my thighs, running down the hungry lips of my mouth, the swollen lips of my cunt?

Would you do that for me? Would you stroke your cock for me? Would you show me the way to please you, to indulge the man, to pleasure his body, to sate your lustful passions with my hands, my lips, my tongue, my most intimate flesh, to take you to that brink of exhaustion and then revive you, over and over and over again?

Would you do that for me? Would you show yourself to me? Lover, would you show me the way?

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Cede


She stands tall, she stands strong, she stands weak, riven and complete, alive as she has never been, a poised and slick and shivering contradiction at the mercy of his heat, craving, always craving his sweet touch, his thick, hard, perfecting flesh, longing him to traverse this cruel distance, this cold ticking time, this punishing space, silently pleading him to damn all consequence, to abandon his control, to cede to his passions, to the lust destroying her, to the need consuming them both.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Desire

My desire for you turns my rationality on its head. It always has. I suspect it always will. It leaves my stomach in knots, my mind crazed, this body on fire, so much so I fear for it, fear this passion will destroy, incinerate, reducing me to nothing but ash and dust, leaving nothing of worth for any other man.

And yet, I care little for my annihilation if it’s at your hand, if it’s at the altar of the man who embodies all that is erotic, all that is possibility, if it’s your body, your imposing strength, your hard thick intensely masculine flesh that takes possession of the woman I now am, of my bare and warm skin, of this slight form draped in the seductive accoutrements of all that is feminine, of the breasts and rosy peaks reaching out for the lightest of caresses, of the lips ever yearning for the softness of your mouth, for your throbbing and glistening sex, of the bright cunt coating your naked cock in this fiery essence, fucking me with your deep and carnal lust, making slow sensual love to me in the dark until you splash your seed, until I release my flood, until I draw the blood on your back, until you bruise me, until we mark, until you guide us, our moans and screams and barely whispered words to the light.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Benediction


If you were here, if you were mine, if we gave of ourselves completely, without reserve, just one more time, I would kneel before you, kiss your body with my warm skin, worship the man, the flesh hard and masculine, I would venerate, idolise, devour with soft lips, with velvet heat, with innocence and sin, I would open, give, surrender myself to you as I’ve only dared in my dreams.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Polish

She dips the brush into the small glass pot with delicate precision, immersing the bristles into the viscous varnish before gingerly hovering over her waiting nails, the first drops trickling a sensuous path down the plastic spines and finally free falling to splatter and gloss and transform the untouched purity on the end of her silky feet.

With each stroke, with each coat, her nails deepen and darken, the shallow red morphing into fresh cherry then lustrous ruby and ultimately the decadent scarlet of the wanton seductress never far from her surface, of the femme fatale whose craving for man, dangerous and overwhelming, engulfs her in the dead of night.

As she watches her toes bloom and glisten, she is reminded of her other scarlet place, the one held tight now by the fine ebony mesh bound around her hips, the pillowy mound accented with the shadow of a finely manicured triangle, the tip leading its way to the lips now impossibly smooth, to the petals plump and bright and yet again on fire as his voice, his words, his desire come back to her, working their way into her body, etching themselves into her very flesh.

With that smallest recollection, with that fleeting thought, he is suddenly there in front her, urging her to touch herself, to hook her feet and scarlet toes over the edge of the coffee table and spread herself open beneath the fine panties, to trace the lines of her full labia and the aching clitoris reaching out for his lips, to tease the wetness from her body until the mesh can no longer stand the flood, until the weave of the fabric gives out and her lust runs hotly down the insides of her thighs, her fingers circling, her palm then rubbing as he sits between her fair legs and begins to drink her in, kissing and licking through the black mesh, rasping his tongue across the material, pressing it into her cleft, into her cunt, drawing out her craving, her need to have him shred the fabric and bare her sex to the cool air, to the flat of his tongue, to have his mouth, his lips, his kiss against her naked flesh, to sate his desire to taste her, to hear her arousal, to have her hot sex pressed against his mouth until he can’t breathe without tasting her, without inhaling her, until his beard is literally sodden with her lust, until he feels orgasm after orgasm ripple then roar through her slight trembling frame, until his own visibly throbbing and oozing glans can take the torture no longer, until the promise of her mouth, her body, her oiled velvet heat opening up to him, utterly and completely, is too much to bear. 

Saturday, March 17, 2012

e[lust] #34


Photo Courtesy of JM from There is No Spoon!

Welcome to e[lust] - Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #35 ? Start with the rules, check out the schedule and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates! Note: Wondering why there is no Top 3 this edition? Read the latest Editor's Note to find out why, and what you can do to help prevent this from happening in the future.

~ Featured Posts (Picked by Lilly) ~
The Ultrasound and the Fury- I cried softly and my partner moved closer to the table so I could lay my cheek against him for comfort and support. Then they brandished a wand and explained they needed to take pictures inside of me. And told him to get out.
Vagina in the Wild - Adventures in Pantslessness - They are self-cleaning and self-lubricating. They are a wonderfully well designed body part that speaks of feminine power and beauty. They leave wet spots on the couch.

~ e[lust] Editress ~
The Ultimate Guide to Silicone Sex Toys – With Metis Black of Tantus, Inc. - I picked the brain of Metis Black, the fabulous woman behind Tantus Inc, makers of some very awesome silicone sex toys. Get your sex geek on and find out some myths and facts about silicone sex toys!
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Kink & Fetish

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Erotic Writing

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Bring On The Night

Leave the words behind
For they merely tear us asunder
Give instead your body, your flesh
Grant me the depths of your desire
Forget the limits, the boundaries
Cast the sobering day aside
Come to me, drink me in
Bring on the night

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

When He Speaks


When he speaks, from near and from afar, when he speaks into her fair skin in the dark, when he speaks into the trembling flesh pressed into the cool stucco of the wall, when he speaks the unutterable desire surging, coursing, burning inside her, when he speaks to the passions that render her own soft voice mute, when he speaks her name, the syllables released, caressed by his breath, when he speaks, when he confesses, when his deep and accented rumble admits his body yearns for her touch, his lips for her kiss, his cock for her cunt, when he speaks the words she holds close, she holds dear, when he speaks of her, when he speaks to her, when he speaks this woman is his.