I Love It When I Find A Poem From My Deleted Blog That I Can Repost To My New On. In This Case The Poem

Sometimes Submissive

Sometimes submissive has nothing to do with ropes and chains. There are no harsh commands or red marks left by hands and crops or chains. It is simply staying still as I take you in. Look at you, a woman no one would suspect contains such passion. Savoring each curve and your perfect skin. Knowing all that others cannot see, all that would amaze and scare and thrill them about you

is mine

A Particular Love

I have a particular love

Of desecrating the innocent,

Particularly

Those who do not think they are.

I am slowly findling my poems from the Tumblr purge of my former site.

in the candlelight and fire your body is art, full or line and shadow, tied, able to move just enough to prove your helplessness.

I caress your back, stopping to nibble, my sharp teeth leaving small marks on your alabaster flesh. branding you as mine.

My fingers cup your bottom, They…

Surrendering

Surrendering involves trust, fear, a discomfort as you are exposed further than you ever expected when you began this journey.

This is How I Want You.

This is how I want you,  spent from hours of touch and penetration,  no part of you  innocent or unfilled,  your body trembling,  your throat raw from moans and cries of orgasm,  the sheets pulled loose by your clinched hands,  your nipples tender,  your clit throbbing,  beautifully abused,  you clamber up,  and whisper,  “Please” as you reach for my cock and draw it to your swollen lips. 

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Tumblr killed my original poetry site, The Other Poems, after 8 years and 12,000+ followers. If you would be kind enough to share this poem, I may find some of my friends and followers.

The Problem With Fantasies

The problem with fantasies is that I tend to make them realities and you may end up getting exactly what you thought you wanted, whether you wanted it or not.

I am slowly refinding some of my old poems from the pre-apocalypse, tumblr style.

Slow Burn

Tonight I will fill you slowly. 

My cock will push past the resistance of your swollen flesh

tortuously patient,  savoring every inch of your depths, 

every inch of your heat.  I will take the time to feel you, 

your wet warmth a tight embrace.  every nerve of my shaft

in ecstasy as you body surrenders it’s secrets. 

This too is control,  knowing your hunger,  knowing your desire to run amok with passion,  I take you on my terms,  a slow burn

desperately wanting to roar its heat, a bonfire of lust. 

I love when one of my poems from my deleted blog finds me.

That Look

That look. Deep into my eyes. That look. That tells me this is far more than pleasure. More than desire. It is Love

Too Much

Mostly when I think of romance it is in black and white, reminiscent of old movies, mixing the repartee and passion in equal amounts in a palette of history and promise.

But you are too much to hold to light and dark. White, shades of pink, eyes rich in color, nipples a shade of their own, lips always the color of orgasm

and even more so when you do.

Consent

It has always about what you offered. And how far I would take it.

That does not change, but know this, there comes a place of offering where I will take all of you to a new place that will leave us both transformed.