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.

Posts tagged “masturbation

Wanting You

Early sunrise,

enveloped in fabric

enveloped in a modeled warmth

enveloped in memory

early reminder


I will have to play solo

while the sun peeks splintered lights

a room begins to come alive,


I can feel your touch,

I will rearrange my cover

create a rhythmic dance –

my hands begin

trace my shoulders close my eyes,

let my lips gasp a startled breath

as fingertips reach an ache nearby,

a rise as now twirl an airy


I know your tongue might do this to me,

in a wet passionate fashion,

but today of course I will

find the exact motion,

a woman knows her need,

whether writhing in the grasp of sensual release

or a chosen alone to capture her essence.


Turn to smile as heat gives notice,

“there will be a time to touch me here”

body shifts to create smooth passage

playing silk

slide – still to anticipate arousal

a magic delight when knowing

‘this is where I need your touch’

now rapid

svelte, squeeze, arching toss

a cascade of erotic notion,

the mind reels in delicious agony,

as a feverish pitch,

“I know I have been here before”

dance in fashion

wells into the early sign of fire,

wells a pool of liquid desire

wells a satiate …


breathe slow,

fingers wet,


a taste,

a tease of afterward,

sleep away an artist’s design.



Traveling With Beads

Oh to be a droplet to journey upon you,

perhaps taunt your forehead, rolling

along your cheekbone,

knowing the sensation, the tease,

as now dive inside nape of neck,

coveting sweet response,

an internal gasp perhaps

one that might as your fingertips,

draw attention nearby,

allow an audible wisp

of desire anticipating

my now exposure to,

nakedness in the valley

of pure silk breasts,

here I will need your hands

to  roll me across regions

where your heart will beat

to a rhythm I might meet,

We pick up speed, intensity,

sliding across piqued nipples,

and spreading wide

to cup a tender desire.

I might venture here

for a lengthy and gentle time,

joined by new travelers to

entice your need, response,

when soon we let your

demands, a lovely

sensuality send us further,

deeper toward that center

where we will dance,

play with cadence,

until when ready,

led by your privacy,

we dive inside with

hands to guide

sweet dance,

always climactic..

Televised Polish

blue haze illuminating a distance

scan to find sensuality,

a slide

a gasp

for now the cotton is dellightful


direct touch


a gasp

slide across or drop inside

wet fingertips


dull tinge of television flicker

legs spreading slowly,

fingers now inside,

the silk of panties

teasing back of her hand

nipple tests

take your pick,

match them up

with similarly piqued delight,

turn off tv

a gasp

wild abandon



just as you are

Start with eyes closed, slow, naked shoulder,

feels a little more real with each slide,

the quiet slowly fades to  a sensual breeze

now as your fingertips, sensitive

nipples waiting to be touched,

an aching need to raise your breasts,

imagine as palm of your hand envelops

each breast the arousal grows,

as I begin in my world, creating you

inside my dream, your tongue,

your grasp,

as with your own touch, feel me, taste you,

tongue, drawing, winding, playing,

a slow urgent moan from your lips,

this is where you decide if a climax

is in order, or simply soft play

until drowsy eyes, let your desire pass

to a dream-state where your orgasm

may occur, many times throughout …

yet, if you just move a hand between your thighs,

allow your fingers inside,

suddenly, the wakeful energy creates that smile

on your lips while I lay here imagining,

my own eyes upon your motion.

We could play like this all night long,

I know I will, can, am, wondering where we

might begin, or finish, or simply continue.

Surreal Night Eyes

Eyes across the room,

I am that mystique you center

your desires upon,

a focus, on a mantle,

some place where while busy

with desire, with passion,

that exploration only yours to reach,

that look, your eyes, are melting my mind,

such a crescendo of fury I could imagine as your


slow and purposeful and needy,

the sort of, damn fuck me, needy,

nothing dependent,

because the look,

that intensity while you ride your circled waves,

of feathered fingertips, that push, reach, to reach the moment,

might nearly knock the center of your focus off the mantle,

such would be your touch,

my cock slippery in your lips,

tongue at the base,

just a flit, playing out my motion inside you

wet fingertips, spread legs,

wild abandon,

only the screaming rage of passion remains,

waiting, in silence tonight,

with soft gasp,

reliving what might be,

rest the exhaustion.

When I Awoke to Imagine

Inside my eyes,

I realize

waking seductive

memory I would enhance

to begin

perhaps just underneath

any part of your sensuality,

a naked knee,

skin alive with lips

trailing toward you …

while your gasps lead me,

I want to spend moments sliding my wet tongue

inside pursed lips along

only the tender tease of your thigh,

reaching inside your absolute need,

that arousal, that skin soft reaction,

when my desire overwhelms her inner thigh,

now caressing smooth flesh with utterance,

twirl your hair with fingertips while you wait,

such center where climax lasts as long as you wish …

How delightful to imagine you,

prolong bursts of passion,

while your touch your imagination demands.


Inside my eyes,

I awaken to the notion of you,

I desire the passion your eyes provide

when in that free-falling wave of self discovery …

the bedding’s linen rests upon my arousal …

I imagine your hands tease …

pretty is a morning sunrise.

Only When She Walks

See beauty,

slide across a window pane,

so real to my imagination,

that I step away from my own presence,

to try to be,

try to want, hope that she might,

catch my eye.

Yet really in the scheme of things

little does that matter,

I mean,


you see,

what if for a moment,

she wanted nothing,

no one,

not any distractions,

if she just wished to be alone,

in public, in her own dance,

walking with reason and a

mischievous grin.

I did see her smile that day,

standing waiting for the

green light.

A crowd gathered around,

all noticed how stunning,

in the warm sunlight, basking in her own private world,

a perpetual bright affect,


Anyone might reach out and touch her,

the spell would be broken,

the light changed and her walk

began with a certain urgency,

careful steps to begin the sojourn,

smile became a bit more of a grimace,

not the kind you dislike seeing of course,

but, that one you recall the last time,

together in the twilight,

you brought your lover to orgasm.

Remember it took awhile,

and now, celeb

seeing her move through the avenue,

sun rays light up her own passages,

she is beginning to find a new

taut, drawn, anticipated, hungrily private grin,

only when she walks.