Tuesday, August 30, 2011

The Absence of Measure

I can’t be measured. I can’t be measured with you. Not with you.

I try, I do try, but I fail miserably, each and every time. In the face of you, my carnality, my sensuality rises up, forcing its way through my skin, tearing at my flesh, dizzying my mind, shredding the seams of my impatience, my rationality, my experience of time. In the face of you and your body and your passions and your words, I am aflame.

In the end, it is this flame, this fire, my fury, my fervour that has burnt us right up for the very last time. And in its wake there is nothing but the need to guard and shield and hide this woman, this heart, this vulnerability away, to paper over the fissure of desire you cruelly and tenderly tore open wide, to find my way through the tears and this pain to the love and the lust and the home of man I hunger and crave.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

HNT: Seventy-seven

With you
I want everything

With you
I want it all

With you
I want as never before

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)  

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Love’s Cartography

If I coaxed your body down with my sweet words, with this sultry voice, if I ran my clear blue gaze along your naked craving flesh, if I confessed my need with desire and with honesty, with the blinding ache you so easily inspire, would you allow me to chart your flesh, to trace and map, to feel you, to fuck you, to make love to you, to grasp the ins and outs of you, to know you with lightness and precision, with soft lips and trembling fingers, with the warmth of this fair skin, with the deep, hot kiss of my velvet cunt?

Would you indulge me, darling lover, this sensual quest, this erotic exploration, would you offer up the man of passion I yearn for as no other?

Thursday, August 18, 2011

HNT: Seventy-six

These hands are tied
There is no choice
But to relinquish, to willingly surrender
This desiring body
This inquiring mind
This heart of yearning and of wonder

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)  

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

I Need You

I need you, baby, I need you. Right now. I need you to take me, to make me yours. Right now. I need you inside me, I need your naked cock buried deep inside this sweet little cunt. Right now. I need to glide you between my lips, I need to taste the pearls glistening on your head. I need to savour you, devour you, give everything I am to you. Right now. I need to hear you come, your mouth pressed against my ear, your seed splashing hot and hard. Right now. I need to wrap myself around you, my skin and yours as one. I need your gaze, your touch, your kiss, I need that soft, warm wetness that leaves us shivering, reaching for more of this perfecting bliss.

I need you, baby, I need you. Right now, I need all of this.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

HNT: Seventy-five

Out of the shadows
She steps
Into the rays of the sun
Into the warmth of his arms

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…) 

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

In The Crowd

I see you everywhere.

I see you in the city crowd, around each bustling corner, in the sea of men dressed in their finery, moving swiftly, sauntering languidly, meeting in cafes, waiting at lights, recognising your eyes, your mouth, your gait, your frame, the heady mix of your cologne and your freshly showered skin.

I see you in flashes and grabs in these strangers before me, I hear your voice somehow through theirs, your voice deep and accented, your voice hoarse with desire, your voice erotically soft, your voice drifting through the wintry breeze, taunting me, calling me, summoning my body, impelling me to follow it, to follow you through the suited throng to a quiet little place, a quiet modest room, a room with a bed and a window and an unassuming view, a room to christen with the libations of our frenzied coupling, a room to fill with the sounds of our sensual union, a room for just us two.

I see you. I see you everywhere in the crowd, on the street, in this bright, shiny city of mine.

Monday, August 8, 2011


The slender, delicate fingers belie her strength and lascivious greed, looping, twining around his thick, eager shaft, stroking, stroking, oh so slowly stroking his pulsing, throbbing uncut meat, pressing his now streaming cockhead into the smooth, full, beckoning lips, guiding, nudging his hardness past that maddening, mouth-watering point of resistance, pushing him, thrusting him, taking him in, taking him all the way in, in, in, into the deep, clutching moistness of her hot honeyed little cunt.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

HNT: Seventy-four

On velvet plush
This kitty cat
Mewls and purrs
Prowls and slinks and wriggles
Trailing behind
The thin black line
For you to trace and kiss
And follow

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)  

Tuesday, August 2, 2011


This body, this relentlessly craving, whimpering body, it calls to you, calls for you, night and day, day and night, through the light of the sun and the beam of the moon and the soft tick and the deafening tock, it calls and begs and pleads for you, for you and your hands and your touch, it whispers, it howls, it calls to savour your lips, it calls for a taste of your kiss, it calls and recalls in a dizzying and ruthless act of remembrance your face, your eyes, your mouth, the sweet rumble that brings me to my knees, your body, your body, you, you, you there and here, you then and now and soon after, facing me, beside me, pressed sensually, firmly into me, hovering above, spread out for our unbounded pleasure beneath.

This flesh, this skin, this feminine suppleness, this subtle warmth turned blazing fire, this breathy, sultry song, this cunt, my cunt, your cunt, the cunt belonging, the cunt longing, the cunt pulsing, swelling, blooming, shining bright, it weeps its want, it drips its desire, it instinctively pours its honeyed pungency fusing silk and satin and lace to this ache, it calls, it overwhelms this space, this place, this room, hoping to find you, hoping to steal you away, to lead you back to me, instinctively leading you by this imperceptible thread, guiding your hunger awakened and unsated, bringing you to my fair, lean legs spread wide, hips pushed deep into the bed, the crisp cotton already listless under the damp heat of my lust, my breasts heaving, nipples hard and darkened peaks, one arm stretched taut grasping, grasping, reaching for the blood and muscle and bone and hard, urgent fleshly throb of your seductive force, stroking the slick, stroking your thick uncut cock, the other nestled along the curve of my arching form, its hand, its fingers parting my folds, circling my nub, two fingers familiar sinking right in, two fingers transformed under the darkness of your gaze, two fingers fucking, two fingers crooked, fingering, fucking the streaming depths of this sex, fingering, fucking with vigour and strength, fingering, fucking, my body on the brink, my body shivering and frayed and torn open, released to you, exposed, bared, in screaming shreds.

This woman, this woman of appetites primal, of sensual yearning, this woman in the glass, this woman that is me, she calls to you, she calls for you, though her language deficient and incomplete, she calls for you, I call for you, for your mouth to feed and mine to swallow, for the tangle of limbs and lips and tongues, for the body of man, for his flesh, for the flesh, oh God, your flesh, for the hard and muscular, highlighted with shadows of curls wiry, for the masculine in scent and line and tone, for the infinite possibilities you inspire, for the possibilities decimating all rational thought, for your love making on a rainy, winter’s afternoon, for our clothes tugged aside as we fuck against the cool of a wall, for the alleyway and movie theatre, for the car speeding down the straight, smooth, glowing highway, for the insatiable hunger that thrusts, that binds us together, for my slight body astride, my thighs tight around your torso, your pulsating shaft parting the lips, nudging the portal of life, your meat stretching and perfecting the velvet so willing and tender, for the moan, for the groan as you fill me to the brim, for the bodies in sync, in rhythm, in dance, for the sounds of my rising and falling, rising and falling and slipping under your spell, for your dominance to sweep and assault, for your hands to force and grind this cunt ever nearer, for your hips to slam and pound the climax clear and blinding right out of us, for my hands around your head bringing you closer, closer, ever closer to the want and the need, to these sweet, whispering lips, to the mewl and the breath and the pure, base affirmations as I come, as you come, as we come, as your seed and my glisten, as your man and my woman become one.