Everyday Erotica

[OtherMan]

The welt of lash you willing wear
a slowly fading brand
that marks as mine the pleasure there,
applied by owners hand

on bare the ass slash thrilling takes
once lowly, raising hips,
just undeserved now serving aches
and waits for praising lips.

5/10/23

 

[OtherMan]

Tongue flayed salt-soaked skin lays waiting,
enwrapped in wicked sheets -
she stays so cloaked and waits to mating…
saps summer’s licked heats.

Her taste is sun… light lotion browned…
her flesh secretes her want
that lubricates like ocean drowned…
as fresh the feast it taunts.

5/13/23

 

[OtherMan]

Just a quick… peek.


Then he strides in and peeks the soft
impatient flesh he owns
and rides again - he sneaks it oft’ -
as matronly she moans.

5/14/23

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Penis Envy

Unlike me,
you don’t have
to say a word,
suggest, plead, or beg,

I can see for myself
what’s on your mind
and the sight itself
makes me want you.

It’s a magical thing
that can spring to life from
its nest of salt and pepper
at my touch or your
devilish thoughts, and yet
you say it’s mine,
that I own it,

Would that it
springs to life
from my loins,
just for one night.

 

[OtherMan]

Another quick peek…


The sting of a sharp, wet smack draws a low groan from her chest but it’s muffled by the bitten pillow.

“Don’t hide that from me,” he says, and she knows what he means and meekly turns her head so he can see her open mouth and the strands of hair stuck to her damp cheek…

 

[OtherMan]

A curated list of lust and slut -
selected, licked, and scoped…
fellated, kissed, a musk of smut…
delected, licked, and groped.

A carnival of carnal peeps -
freaks shown a chosen few…
some tossed away… as few are keeps…
peeks love from passion grew.

5/18/23


*so… between @PrettyLilPussy19 and her comment about a curated Lit… and @StillRain and her “selectively slutty” username title… and a certain passion of mine… grew this lil ditty… just giving props.

 

[OtherMan]

Will the need of swallowed choke
bring tears into your eyes?
The fill of seed and wallowed… broke…
the fear endures… denies.

5/20/23

 

[OtherMan]

See me play.
Watch the
pockets swing.
Happy hands
in time
with the breath
that thumps
time…
in the seconds
of you.

5/26/23

 

[OtherMan]

I wonder how you would a’tickled
just brief before a kiss…
would you grin round mouth a’lickled
or frump up like a Miss?

Would you pull me ear to lip
to whisper words with risk?
Or would you bite and bruskly slip
small anger quick and brisk?

And I’ll not poke until I know
which those will either be…
til known the no’s of lustless shows
the yesses willing me.

5/31/23

 

[OtherMan]

Straight up look…
into eyes that
compel…
knelt
with the mysterious
submission of self
to her.
Follow and feel…
an ache
for taken
and possession
tugged
and begged…
hugged
tight in the colors
wrapped around…
a muse…
and
the memory
of Eden’s flesh.

6/3/23



This seemed the appropriate place.

 

[OtherMan]

The clothe warms quickly in-between
as touch it turns to find
the thigh gripped, buttons, jean-to-jean
as seize turns into grind.

6/4/23

 

[OtherMan]

Fantasy Upon Seeing a Sunbathing Beauty… (with no sunbathing references btw because I saw her… and this is how it felt.)


You’re the reason we’re a biological necessity.
The Law of
fittest is first
and get it is thirst
for every
dew drop
dripped
and sweat tipped tongue
tippled to nipple
and rippled
wet sheets ripped,
loose binding gripping
denied ankle…

now free to yield to me..

I’m the reason we’re a biological necessity.

6/5/23

 

[OtherMan]

just a girl…
must be one
who looks
and sees
and is
unaware
of the daring
dark promise,
the raised
spiral desire
she spins with
the turn of chin
and the lift
of her eyes
to mine.

6/8/23

 

[OtherMan]

Fresh flesh pressed,
stressed buttons…

mesh backseat
dared bared
breast gluttons.


Ground down mound,
pink nubbin…

sweet complete
hair shared
just rubbin.


Not much touch
‘til comin’…

she’s the heat
stare there
her hummin’.


Hands trace lace
face omen…

rear eyes meet
clear wear
this moment.

6/9/23

 

[OtherMan]

Tattoos and ties and printed sighs
and panting pin and ink,
and soon to rise, the scented thighs
paint wonders with the pink.

6/16/23

 

[alwaystheguy1983]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8JLpbyR/

Came across this the other night. It’s a spoken piece about this guy cumming in his wife an how it changes her. Give it a listen I enjoyed it

 

[OtherMan]

How much my hands aching want
to gently trace your face…
thumbs brush lips and waking taunt
my own to take their place.

6/17/23

 

[urguyscott]

The old urban myth that men think of sex about every 20 seconds has been squashed. Apparently men think of sex about 20 times a day and women 10, according to research at Ohio State University. That is still enough times for there to be a chance of an erotic poem surfacing in your imagination, should any of your sexual thoughts wander above your navel.

I took part in a study like this. A hot juicy "scientists" wearing a very short skirt and tight blouses kept asking me "Are you thinking about sex now? Are you thinking about sex now?" Found out I was thinking about sexy NOW. When I showed her, she called security (after her third organism).

 

[OtherMan]

Her flesh is flushed and always warm
and ready for a touch.
The heady scent of playing form
is splayed not over much…

just total spread and wanting for
the circle tickle flung
to jerkle hips… then taunting more…
and flaunting lips for tongue.

6/20/23

 

[OtherMan]

Slippin’ notes to Sally Sue.
She slips ‘em back to me
wearing slippy things we do -
where no one else can see.



7/11/23

 

[EllenMore]

a nightingale sings
over the rustling of leaves--
you dress in the dark
while I straighten the bedsheets
and wait for the dawn

I take no comfort
from your delicate last kiss
and only brew tea
to warm my lonely fingers
that no longer brush your thighs

 

[29wordsforsnow]

In this fabulous secret place that no one yet knows
we've found a table outside
the manicured starters are gone
a bottle of handcrafted organic vegan beer
and burning through our last local cash
the main dish arrived, a plate for two
all the primary colors of haute cuisine
afloat on a tongue-teasing sauce of subtle orange

and a slippery pea
falls
and rolls
and enters your neckline
your laughter is priceless
eyes begging for sleep
caught in a firework of wrinkles
and a teeth askew
I've got you a dessert

two people in a room
but no candles
with packed suitcases
but no ropes
stained flight day clothes
but no costumes
just a couple in a position
and a slippery pea

 

[EllenMore]

On Any Given Sunday

There are times I want
just to look at you,
naked and erect, fresh
from the shower, knowing
I have been watching
as you soaped your body,
long along your legs,
over your chest and belly,
while I stood in the warm
and steamy air, trying
not to touch myself
because it was your
touch that I was wanting.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Friday at home, work like shoes left by the door
random hints of shed skins create a hallway trail
nondescript black, a blazer, a blouse of soft pale
like lazy cats in their corners, occupy the floor

lace and more where the stair
meets the introduction to my lair

I beg you on with my silk stockings on the rail
take a step and another one, upwards to me
where I reside, unseen yet, but all thoughts flee
words float down, greet you from a naughty tale

moaning, I'm your perfect liar
come on, John, climb up higher

Turning the page, things read heat up even more
my skirt discarded mid-way up your hasty flight
my last piece unwound a red flag does you right
the crumbled triangle adds to the bawdy folklore

exercise made me a dirty little sigher
puts another log on your internal fire

Welcome to my landing, now please turn left
find me, like the book blush-red, in my armchair
and there, in my core, I melt beneath the stare
of your eyes and the promise of the swaying heft

anticipation all around, I perspire
my exaltation and nethers a mire

The End is close, some more stammered lines escape
half my eyes caught by your attention on the threshold
the story finished, now what's to come already foretold
on your voicemail, my quick message has taken shape

thousand words unspoken in the air
read my picture, if you dare