Posts tagged rude
show me
with a wanton look
your heated touch
as if all alone
with the heat of lust
strip away your care
strip away all thought
with a wanton touch
with a heated look
show me
let my eyes devour
what you hide beneath
let me in to see
what you hide away
the curve of your calf
move often it is the smooth warmth
the silken softness of thigh
against parting lips in a kiss
that warm nuzzle silken smooth
that comes to mind
but now
at this moment
it is the curve of your calf
i want to feel
against my kiss
my fingers holding the arch
of your soul
feeling your skin
my questing lips seeking
just that pulse point
where i can find your heat
and trace the line straight
into your heart
and dreams are not the province alone
of the sleeping mind
for i will find myself bestirred at times
by the roused from dreaming
rumination
of my fingers that have been transported
from their earthly norm
to search out and caress
soft places warm becoming heated
at their touch
at times my lips will start awake
from dreaming
of your kiss
and that moment of tightening
round soft places that will waken
to their touch
yes dreams invest in many places
teasing memories
into wishes
teasing wishes
into hopes
i want to stop thinking about you. I want to stop creating images and scenes of you, of us, of my hands on you, of your hands on me. Even though I cannot unbutton your shirt, slowly as my eyes are fixed on yours, the warmth of your skin revealed little by little until I pull the cloth from your shoulders and press my lips to your neck, I cannot stop thinking about how you would look sitting before me barely clad. I want to stop thinking about the first time your breasts would be bared to me, and my hand wondering traces the curves and contours before needing to press my lips against you and taste you with my questing tongue. I want to stop the scripting that gets more and more extreme, since i cannot see you, cannot touch you, the scenes in which I take hold of you binding you to the bed naked, so that you cannot escape what now I want to do. I want to stop the desire that runs hot in my veins simmering beneath my skin, hardening my desire to a throb that needs release within you. But I do not want to let go of you and so, all I have are the thoughts and images that my desire will create.
the taste of you
in a kiss
with that kiss
that shivers you so
the feel of you
against finger tips
the movement
of hips
that curls up toes
the taste of you
warm and sweet
on my tongue
heady scent
on my skin
dizzying desire
swelling within
i want to touch you
so you know you have been
touched
so the memory of the moment
is the yardstick against which
the future is understood
i want to slide deep inside
the heat of you
taking hold of you
moving you to the beat
of my desire
i want to touch you
and take you
leaving you
with the heat of a moment
that does not fade
readily in the night
don’t run
from the want
and the hunger
that heats you skin
that leaves you
stirring
in the night
just call
in your want
and the hunger
call out for the touch
for the kiss
of hips that becomes
more than just
a kiss
i woke while dark
was still upon me
the hungry dark
wherein i call
your name
i woke in darkness
the heat of need
upon me
though my hands
have never held you
they called your name
i woke beneath the dark
drowning in the night
my lips gasping for
your kiss
though i have never
kissed you
to breathe you in
my breath of life
to taste your need
my drink of night
i woke before the sun
within the dark of need
within the heat of want
my hips questing for you
though i have never
had you
though i have never
taken you
i wake with you
burning in my heart
dispelling the dark
can words
reach across space
to take hold of your fingers
and move them
bent to my purpose
can words
reach through time
to slide under your skin
and heat you
taken by my message
as i would take you
were you just
a hand span away
Meet me for a drink, you said, and I agreed, and there we were. A first time face to face, and I wondered what would happen given all that had passed between us. You told me you had been shopping for something special, and the corner of your mouth turned up. I saw something in your eyes when I felt your knee brush against mine. I placed my hand on your knee and felt the warmth of your skin through stockings, my fingers idly tracing a slow path from knee to hem and back again. I shifted in my seat, feeling the stiffening throb that had started uncomfortable and in shifting my hand moved your hem higher and I found to my surprise an end of stockings and the start of soft, warm skin. You looked at me, the smile finding the other corner of your mouth and I took a drink to slow my speeding heart. The bar was dim and nobody was paying attention to us at our little candle-lit table. I leaned closer to you, more daring by your smile, more hungry for you than just one moment before. As my left hand cupped your cheek, and we leaned together to try a first kiss, my hand on your leg slipped higher along your naked thigh. My fingers brushed across the slight cloth covering of your thong and I pulled you closer to deepen our kiss. When I leaned back to look at you, my finger tips were moving up and down along the cloth stroking you, petting you softly but surely and I looked into your eyes and said, You cannot make a sound. Not one sound, I said, and my fingers moved with more intent and intense purpose.