I would like to be a writer. I began this site with amorous intentions, and over the course of time, I hope to have evolved as a male in an ever changing society that is today, recognizing the true beauty and elegance of woman. My words and notions will I hope respond in poetic verse of many genre and style. Come along and please share your ideas and insights. Thank you for your visit.

Erotica

Touch Think


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I do wish my hands
her yearn
tells me so
perhaps she only suggests
beauty how I linger to feel
my palm
cause her needing
gasps
she waits, she arches, she feels
might be a wanton need
oh let me man’s
want fulfill
caress human condition
yet
Is love a wanton
pose.


Yes, We Would


If I took just the passion of your stance,

the simple pretty of fingertips

cling a sweet fabric

my lips would wish engage,

while gasps above might

suggest me a further trial

toward suggestive lace

meant to provoke

the kindness a caress

would allow,

would arouse,

would we now.


A State of Want


In a glance,

a smooth gentle curve,

winding around a world,

where my want might remain,

it is in this quiet

delight,

the shape of you,

with eyes enhanced,

suggesting I might take you,

suggesting please do take me,

in that moment

delicious.

 

I am a wonder in fantasy,

only with a desire might I recall,

the contours of a settling valley,

a surreal stream,

a touch,

the rising waters will then give me pause,

for it is here in the nature of love,

I do wish to watch springs flow,

the gasps of evening, a sensory paradise,

it is a caress of her sweet remedy,

my dreams become reality.


writing words & Her


Oh I do on occasion confuse,

the true meaning of love,

it is when in an intellectual storm,

I sometimes forget,

or perhaps I choose,

while deep inside my mind,

I know the answer manifests itself as a want.

 

I want to seduce her,

I want to have her gasp at my touch,

I want to teach her how to let go and journey beyond

I want her to love me,

in the same manner I wish to always love her.

 

Then later, after the travel, the explosive gathering of storm,

when feeling the shelter of her center,

the beauty is grace in the arms of her sweet passion,

then later,

when I do recall the words,

I know she might wonder about

seduction.

 

Is it a ploy, or a necessary piece of the whole,

where does elegance come into play,

when the ultimate goal is to bring distinct pleasure

into her life,

into her being,

into the reason she might wish to breathe, to feel, to respond.

 

When do the words seem enough.


It Is That Soft Touch


When we do go there,

our miles of dialogue discerned,

eyes searching, want,

the sudden though balanced

shift from anxiety to desire,

when we do, when touch

becomes central.

 

I imagine silk scarves covering her nakedness,

everything else is normalcy,

yet silk,

slides so effortlessly,

fun to pull with fingers,

or teeth,

more pleasurable to imagine,

the arousal, her skin, come alive

knowing she is being

loved in a physical way.

 

Oh there is certain in anticipation,

a rosy set of –

untouched yet yearning,

he sees, she knows, he knows, she …

when a moment allows the wetness

envelops one,

a gasp,

save the other, though always balance,

until there is a certain languid

sensuality that slides his mouth along lines,

toward another part of her nakedness,

his mouth plays, tongue tease,

she does again,

gasp, as his mouth lowers,

his hands return silks,

the scarves,

to naked, peaked – ,

shout to the touch, while

now the center will be his aim.

 

Oh to spend time here,

with hands that find,

with lips that do taste,

a desire in her eyes, looking for his,

for he is on a watch,

to notice her upper lip

settle in quiver

as yes he does,

the circles begin,

the fingertips respond, explore, search,

a designed rhythm

whereby bodies are moving,

his anticipation grinds into a corner

of silk bedding, save for later.

 

For now it is the duty, desire of his tongue,

to find her arch, that involuntary sweep of

unbridled passion,

that wanton nature,

of finding her rhythm to reach …

ah, breathe sweet, spent, curls and lips

rest upon my shoulder,

I would then feel her hands,

 

begin again …


Stunning Appraisal


When given license to explore

regions a man may only imagine,

when allowance a fingertip

might cause an unraveling passion,

there is little need for explanation,

only the source is a lovely fluid

motion, gives the senses reason

to entice that aspect of humanity,

will explosions enhance our climax.

 

There is a vague reality in the distinction

between love and sex. Where one

decides a motive is a self-driven

journey, another  wishes only pleasure

to manifest itself in the eyes of a lover.

It is that deep delight when cast upon

our actions, when a touch, a twirl,

a slow methodical insertion can wake

that nirvana is delightful in presence.

 

Would that we might repeat ourselves

again, yes, once more, please, again, a

twilight response to evening’s reason.

Would that her desire begin to move,

as he himself feels this energy untapped.

Again, again, again, rest, taste, touch, breathe

a gasp will be suggestive in her eyes, his

draw to bring alive a new utterance,

a kiss, lips, alive we wish, please … again.


When Lives Live Separate Realities


We didn’t plan this,

words familiar to the ideal,

two lives in separate worlds,

a correspondence, a fire,

a reasonable time to remember,

is all we suddenly recall,

when tonight, we wander,

separate minds in a similar spell.

 

Fantasy alone brings wild results,

a yearn for reality

make allowance for time,

a touch, a soft gentle caress,

a swift imagination would become,

that certain urgency to know,

to feel eyes upon eyes,

lips to taste the nectar

a careful abandon,

is love.

 

When last I held you close,

we did a passionate dance,

your breath heavy, gasps apparent,

did we play the night for the longer minutes,

when both our bodies felt the need,

to find more time.

We would with just a trace,

skin alive in a sudden fury,

could we travel the miles

in caution a moan, might my desire

ever seek taste in the serene atmosphere,

of only your sweet sensuality.

 

We can each time reinvent

finding center

finding together,

in the privacy of our trepidation,

open doors to wander,

inside the lives

where in a delicious motion,

our bodies, our needs, do meet,

do reach levels.