Everyday Erotica

Game On

The hunger within me grows,
in strength,
want,
and in a quiet roar that
does its best to pass for
whispered words winding us
both up and
spinning us off
once more,
Am I your plaything or you mine?
Or, have we finally become a unit,
Andy to Ann,
Punch to Judy,
Ken to Barbie,
and everything is just different
shades of play.
 
Sated

I remember my name but
wonder where I am,
what cloudless day I waken to,
smiling in his tumbled bed with
pleasantly aching loins.

His secret smile slowly
reminds me of the night.
Slyly shifting zips,
slipped elastic uncovering
that body more beautiful
with open-ended excitement.

I was artless in his hands
as he gentled me wider
to passionate kisses that bruised,
knotted fistfuls of tangle softness,
and hardness sliding into wholeness.
Sated sighs as the sky lightened.
 
I have no patience
for detailed fantasies
or lighting candles
to romance myself

All I need is a few minutes
to recall the thickness of your voice
while you stand behind me
and the sound of your zipper
 
Afterwards

Although he's left,
I can still feel his body
looming over me, hips

joined to mine like a hasp
that wouldn't quite close
despite his hammering,

hammering, hammering,
until suddenly everything
slipped perfectly into place.

While he slept, I rubbed his back,
poor tired thing,
and smiled when he snicked

that padlock into place.
Because earlier I'd palmed the key,
now hidden safe beneath my pillow.
 
Afterwards

Although he's left,
I can still feel his body
looming over me, hips

joined to mine like a hasp
that wouldn't quite close
despite his hammering,

hammering, hammering,
until suddenly everything
slipped perfectly into place.

While he slept, I rubbed his back,
poor tired thing,
and smiled when he snicked

that padlock into place.
Because earlier I'd palmed the key,
now hidden safe beneath my pillow.

Snicked

_______________________________________
snick
past tense: snicked; past participle: snicked
1. cut a small notch or incision in (something).

______________________________________________

After one of those nights
I found myself awake
in a strange bed
in the early morning
beside a new woman
with vague memories of
a disjointed conjunction
and I’m not talking grammar.

Then her soft hands
rubbed my back and
I turned to her and carefully
inserted my swelling stem
into the moist incision
above her notch
to restore our union.

She still was sleeping
as I made my stealthy exit
with a pluperfect memory
and I’m not talking grammar.​
 
Winter's coming

A snow-dark night's fingers
found their way in
through a gaping hole
left at the rim
of the double duvet
where some time ago
a shape like your arm
had tunneled in
and left me in need
for a shower
and new bedsheets.

Back to back
two feet apart
in our bed
of kingly size
I wonder
whether the sheets
can be cleaned
of your stains too.

Let's see, Mrs Winter.
 
I wore my tightest black dress
so Jon might notice me,
though that meant

so many other guys did too.
I kept refusing drinks
and batting guys' hands

off my thighs
as if they were biting insects
and I might catch malaria.

He never seemed to notice,
safe in the center of his group of pals,
and however I rubbed my thighs together

twitching on that barstool,
nothing good ever happened.
My friend Jenny took me home

to our apartment,
where she dropped me off and then left
with her lame date Eddie

for his place and of course you know what.
 
I ain’t no Lothario but
sometimes I get lucky
as I’m not too picky
and neither are they
an aging belle of the bar
sitting alone at her stool
she still has great legs
and they're open wide
which I take as an invite
to buy her next drink
so I sidle up to her and
we chat for a bit about
nothing at all, then
that Sheryl l Crow
song “All I wanna do”
comes on the jukebox
and she gets up and
we don’t.
 
I wore my tightest black dress
so Jon might notice me,
though that meant

so many other guys did too.
I kept refusing drinks
and batting guys' hands

off my thighs
as if they were biting insects
and I might catch malaria.

He never seemed to notice,
safe in the center of his group of pals,
and however I rubbed my thighs together

twitching on that barstool,
nothing good ever happened.
My friend Jenny took me home

to our apartment,
where she dropped me off and then left
with her lame date Eddie

for his place and of course you know what.

Although not the type of guy to lay hands
where they’re not wanted
sometimes my eyes can’t stay in their
place
a dress that runs your curves the way
I want to,
intimate,
everywhere

my mates were more interested in 8ball
so we drank and laughed
you skirted the corners of my vision
sometimes as I was lining up a shot
I could see straight up your dress
although it was too hazy to see properly
I liked to imagine you wore no underwear
for me

I eye the pocket
thick hard wood coiled in hand
gentle stroke
the shaft glides gently
over my fingers
balls strike each other
one flows gently into the pocket
 
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I could see straight up your dress
although it was too hazy to see properly
I liked to imagine you wore no underwear
for me
I should shame you
for looking up my dress,
but I guess

you're just another guy
who wants to fuck me.

I've known a lot of you.
And I've often wanted
to fuck you too,
as well as many others.

We needn't talk about that.

I'm getting old enough
to ask for some kind of commitment.
And when you skitter away,
I'll know, I'll know

how you actually feel about me.
 
Gallimaufry

Bare toes with carmine nails
peaking through the x’s of black
thigh high fishnet stockings
suspended from a black garter
belt and nothing in between.

James Joyce - Ulysse - Molly Bloom's Soliloquy
D.L. Lawrence - Lady Chatterley's Lover


Her Venus Dimples winking
as she turns naked before him
revealing that russet thatch
above her shaven mons.

Anais Nin - Delta of Venus
Henry Miller - don't bother
Hemingway’s good bits

.
Her naughty French corset
flaunting perfect round orbs
with her perky pink nipples
encircled by dark areolae.
The “private” pics taken after
he creamed over her tits.

Playboy, Penthouse and
racy European postcards
purloined from a dirty
uncle’s garage drawer


Her porcelain face
and angelic smile,
afore her Botox lips
left a series of carnal
carmine rings as her
mouth descended that
porn star’s cock, avidly
saving his cum to
share with her sister.

Pauline Réage/Anne Desclos - The Story of O
Roth - Portnoy’s Complaint
Erica Jong - Fear of Flying
Anne Rice - Vampire Chronicles


Her naked bottom
spread across his lap
as he alternately spanks
her buttocks and plays
with teasing toys inserted
in her twat and taint.
Never reaching climax
until she rides him
in reverse cowboy.

Roger Vadim - Barbarella
Bernardo Bertolucci - Last Tango in Paris
Lina Wertmüller - Swept Away
Artie ans Jim mITCHEL - Behind the Green Door


Her secret tribute files
filled with screenshots
from anonymous fans
spilling incel jizz on
your Jezebel images.
Her distended vulva
leaking coconut oil
cum to delight creampie
fetishists - lonely Only Fans
lost in neverland’s web.

www.xhamster,com
www.xvideos.com
www.hotmovies.com


When nothing is sacred
is anything profane?
 
PTA Meeting

Even through the sweater
I sense the heaviness
of her breasts.

But we shake hands,
and chat
about what books

the library might need
which would not be funded
by state revenues.

When she moves off
to another group, fishing
for donations

I admire how well
she fits
into her slim black pants.

I find my wife
drinking tea at a table
of retired teachers.

I leave a check for Sarah
before we go.
 
Her tongue circling her lips to get the last of the milk
as her eyes focus on the busy street behind me.
 
Wrists and ankles entangled
For you am I bound
My chains jingle jangled
Gagged to steal my sound
With ropes I'm wrangled
Bruised knees cold ground
Bare cheeks left mangled
Agonizing joy I've found
 
STUPID MASTER:
BRAINY SLUT!?
MASTER SMAAKS:
HER BRAINY BUTT!?
SHE HELPS HIM :
IN HIS CAREER!?
FICKLE LOVER:
BUT2HER HE'S A DEAR!?
HE IS CHARCOAL:
SHE'S A PEARL!?
HE'S CASANOVA:
SHE'S HIS DEVOTED GIRL!?
STORY OF O:
SHADES OF GREY!?
SHE IS ADDICTED:
NITE'N DAY!?
HE IS HER DRUG:
FOR HER NEEDY SOUL!?
HE IS HER BUTT-PLUG:
4HER SLUTTY A-HOLE!?
SHE FORGIVES HIM:
EVEN AS HE VAINLY PREENS!?
COZ' SHE IS EMPRESS:
'MONGST CUCKQUEENS!!!?
 
Pleasure

One moment
in our lovemaking
equal to the bliss
as my core swells
to engulf us both and the wave
of emotion crests
is the instant of your entry,
the sliding find through silken lips
to open and fill my need.

The slow probe and throb
of your passion,
ecstatic echoes in me,
squeezed by muscles I never knew I had
in an effort to hold you deep
as surely as my arms and legs
enfold your body.

 
Thanks from a dirty old man to the redhead waiting at the bus stop across the street

Your tight short black dress and
long legs with mismatched pink
knee high stockings and
black and pink striped satchel
reminded me that spring has sprung.
 
It's not that I want
ropes of cum draped
over my naked breasts,

but the idea that a man
would be so aroused
as to festoon my skin

with ejaculated desire
without my ever even
taking him in

to my body,
.................well,
that's something,
anyway. Thanks, I guess.
 
By Design

It went as planned.
I knew they were watching,
maybe alerting others to the window
to behold the short skirt,
the long, tanned legs and
swinging gait as I arrived
at his college rooms. To-
night is the night I lose my
virginity and he is, only now,
realizing he is the chosen one.
 

Private Places​


Tonight a dream with fingers
that smooth cool cotton
over your belly causing
you to flinch
woke you to darkness.

It was my hand that woke
stone from pliant clay,
left you wanting more.
Your hand over mine,
a guide to the map
of your private places
that I know so well,
with a shortcut to pleasure

I have chosen the longer route
through sighs and moans
and forbidden functions,
trespassing in a tangle of passion.
watching you below me
bending to you, my mouth an O
filled with you until you surface
gasping, teeth bared,
breathlessly awake
 
All I can now touch you with
is my keyboard,
and even those words
bloom from the few fingers
I can still control.
Yet all ten could still stroke
your unclothed body--
for though they cannot flex,
thank God they still can feel
the warmth and curve of your skin.
You will have to tell me
if that is enough. If that
can finally satisfy as love.
 
Absolutely lovely, @Tzara. That's a swoon worthy bit of romantic longing, and I love the touch of vulnerability within the mentions of the fingers.
 
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