Kiss

I think kissing is the most pure and raw form of physical contact there could ever be. 
Sex is intimate, sure, but you can have sex with anyone. A kiss though, my god. A kiss can change your world. A small touch between two pairs of lips can blow your mind. Whether it be short and sweet, or long and intense. And when you find someone that looks at you like you’re more beautiful than a blossoming rose; you never want to feel another’s lips against yours ever again.  - The Purity of a Kiss - (jpzg)

Lured

He feasts himself upon her skin, mouth moving over the soft curves of her body.  

His hands enjoy the feel of silk as he digs his fingers into her flesh. 

Mouth devouring as he sinks his teeth into her. 

Loving the way her hips thrust upwards into his mouth.

The taste of her skin fills his mouth, harsher his fingers pulled at her skin. As he worked his mouth over the curve of her ass.  

Her scent fills his lungs, luring him deeper beneath her spell. 

"...ing".....

Seed planting

Thoughts developing

Nerves building

Excitement mounting

Butterflies growing

Time passing

Eyes meeting

Knees quivering

Hands shaking

Face smiling

Cheeks blushing

Eyes lowering

Skin touching

Pores perspiring

Mouth sighing

Lips touching

Tongues meeting

Hands roving

Hearts thumping

Body longing

Hands groping

Fingers rubbing

Mouths groaning

Trousers straining

Arms gripping

Mouth exploring

Senses exploding

Cock hardening

Eyes darkening

Lust building

Bodies aching

Cunt dripping

Tongue lapping

Heart pounding

Muscles tensing

Toes curling

Limbs clamping

Palms twitching

Mouths groaning

Hips plunging

Hands gripping

Teeth biting

Mouths Screaming

Bodies convulsing

Fluids releasing

Throat sighing

Arms holding

Time passing

Bodies spooning

Calm returning

Come, kiss me awake

Come,

kiss me awake,

my love.

As my lips touch yours

as dawn breaks.

Come,

kiss me awake,

my heart.

Feel the rhythm

as it beats fiercely

for you.

I breathe you in,

gently,

and filled with

your scent,

my body aches in

anticipation of lips

pressed against

my own.

Come, kiss me,

until we are

breathless, left

gasping for air.

Come, now

kiss me

senseless.

Invitation

She was led on the bed propped up against pillows, leaning to one side, her head gently resting on her hand as she watched him standing by the side of the bed.  He stood there, slowly removing his clothes, his eyes not breaking the stare that she held him in.

There was an animal in both of their eyes.

Hers watching her prey, his watching her trying to decode the thoughts and images that were flashing before her eyes which had darkened with a lust and desire as she watched him strip.

He stood there, completely bared before her. 

She watched him,  studying his body closely. 

She took in the shape of his lips and wanted to devour him with her own.  Her eyes took in the shape of his neck and she wanted to kiss and bite him.  She took in the shape of his naked torso, his cock that was slowly beginning to betray his own body and his own desirous thoughts.  She looked at his face once more, smiling as he blushed, aware that she had read his thoughts without really knowing what they were and that she had seen the involuntary movements of his stiffening cock.

He waited until she beckoned him into bed.

There was always that moment.  The moment he waited for her command that he may join her.  He climbed on the bed slowly, crawling across the mattress on his knees, his balls and stiffening cock hanging down below him.  She took in the sight before her, her depraved and lascivious thoughts running through her mind as she watched him come closer.

He was co-operative prey. Her prey. 

And she was watching him, waiting for that moment when she would claim his mouth and his body with her own.  He blushed again as if embarrassed by his own thoughts and still she did not break his gaze.  There were no prudish thoughts here, there was no room for prissiness.  There were animals in their eyes. 

He reached out, stroking the side of her face as she leaned into his touch.  His hand reaching into her hair, gripping it tightly, pulling her closer to his mouth until she began to crush his lips against her own.  They kissed deeply, tongues probing and exploring and as a responsive, appreciative groan escaped from his lips it sent a shiver straight through her body to the depths of her.  The more their mouths explored, the more she longed for him, desired him, needed him, wanted him.  Pulling away slightly, she wiped the wetness from her lips, she felt free in her desires for him, he felt uninhibited by her gaze that fell upon him. 

Their faces only centimetres apart and she watched him still, his hand still gripping her hair as she moved her head slightly to feel the pressure of his fingers pulling on her hair, she breathed in deeply, her mouth open slightly needing to meet his own once more. 

And his cock is stiff, jutting out from his body and yet not quite close enough to be touching her, and she leaned back in for more, grabbing him, biting at his neck and shoulders, watching him flinch at the short sharp bites that left small red marks in a trail across his shoulders. 

Her mouth moved to his nipples, biting him hard as he flinched at the sudden sharpness of pain.  Her hand reaching up to touch his face, fingers tracing the line of his lips and his chin, still wet from their passionate embrace of moments before. 

And she began to devour him, aggressively, his own aggression and force meeting her own as he sunk his teeth into the depths of her neck her own appreciative groan escaping from her lips made his cock stiffen further. 

She leaned back, exposing herself to his mouth, to his unrelenting teeth and the sharp pain of flesh trapped between them as he started to bite her neck, her shoulders and down to her breasts.  Gripping them in his hands, the pain came over her in exquisite waves, from the point of contact from his mouth, down through her body to her cunt.  She could feel her own wetness growing with each contact his mouth made.

His finger nails clawed at her bare skin sending shivers down her body, goosebumps forming on her skin, peppering her arms and legs, the moans that escaped from her mouth spurred him on further.  His own hunger matching hers, his own aggression matching the building onslaught of hers.

Her hair still wrapped in his fist, his face still cupped in her hands, his mouth being assaulted with hers.  She wanted him, longed for him, she wanted him inside her.  Without loosening the hand in her hair he reached down between her legs and attacked her cunt.  Her juices enabling him to easily slide in a finger, then two, then three.  Fucking her with his fingers her body reacted pushing against him, wanting him to fill her deeper.  She wrapped herself around his shoulders and hung on to him.

She came hard.  Her body wracked with the orgasm that ripped through her body, soaking his fingers,  and as he pulled his glistening hand away, his face replaced the fingers that had been buried deep within her, his tongue delving deep, bringing her once again to the edge of ecstasy with his mouth sucking and biting and delving deep into her cunt.

She came hard again, more than once, more than twice, he was stealing her pleasure, taking her orgasms with his mouth.

The smell of sex filled the air, she was inviting him in deeper, drawing him closer, wanting him to ravage her with his mouth. 

And as he continued to steal the orgasms from her body, urged on by her reactions and the sounds that escaped from her lips, the juices surged from her into his mouth, over his face, she was lost to him in that moment.  She felt him taking her in, her wetness, the juices that he had brought from her, as she held him tightly.

She wanted him, and shamelessly opened herself to him, inviting him in.

He accepted her invitation.

I awoke

I awoke with

the hard longing

of hunger

to have you here.

To see you

naked beside me,

bared before me.

I awoke with

a hard longing

of hunger

to hold you,

to touch you,

to kiss you,

to hurt you.

I awoke with

a hard longing

for you to

enter the depths

of my desire,

and me.

Oh, how I want

Oh, how I want

you.

Stripped naked

so I can cover you with

my hands, my body

my mouth.

Oh, how I want

to trace each line of

your body,

feeling you

shiver,

feeling you

relax under the touch

of my fingers,

of my

tongue.

Oh, how I want to

hear the

sharp intake of breath

as I lean in covering

your mouth with my own,

to feel your lips

pressed against mine,

drawing you in to the warmth

of my mouth,

deeper and closer.

Oh, how I want

to taste every last

part of you,

to touch you,

hold you

and feel you as

I devour.

Tangling in a closeness

of a passionate

kiss.

Oh, how I want YOU.

Screw poetry!

"Screw poetry, it's you I want, your taste, rain on you, mouth on your skin."
Margaret Atwood

There are no poetic words waiting to spill all over the page.  There is no melodious soliloquy or discourse. 

There is no painting of aimless silhouette's on a naked canvas depicting an artistic longing.

Instead there is just the carnal and lascivious desires that are burning, that are longing, that are screaming for attention.  There is the ravenous hunger for sensual touch, your touch. 

Your fingers, your hands, your mouth over me, upon me, in me.

There is the rousing desires, of wants and needs. 

Screw the words, screw the poetry, screw the art upon bare canvas. 

Instead  I want you. 

Your hands, your mouth, your body touching mine.  Instead I want to touch you, to kiss you, to bite you and hurt you.  I want to breath you in, taste you, hold you.

There is no need for epodic rhyme. 

There is just a need for a moment.  A moment with you, with a mellifluous symphony of desirous worship.

Closer and deeper

I think about you

and want.

Want hand holding walks 

along the shore

as waves gently lap at our feet

Long lingering kisses curled

in front of the fire

on a cold winters night

Moments of closeness and

moments where words are not

needed as we are lost in close

silent thought.

I think about you

and want

to hear your words, your voice

as you share your inner thoughts,

and feelings and wants.

And yet I want

you

down on your knees before me

wrists behind your back

And I want to kiss you,

and  touch you and

bringing you closer.

Closer.

And I want

your deep probing

kisses, your tongue

tasting me everywhere.

Your tongue teasing,

delving, tasting as

my hands stroke

your head, touching you,

pulling you closer and

deeper.

Closer.

And deeper.

And I like it . . .

Your face, that is.  

A lot. 

Even more since you sat across from me, when I didn't have to imagine the expressions that swept across your face.

I like your face, and yet I cannot believe you didn't know that you had a "thinking" expression.

You have.  You do. 

And I like it. 

A lot.

I like the way you face reflects that your mind is thinking, that you're drifting off into the thoughts that one day I hope you will share with me.  I like the way that your eyebrow slightly arches as if you've been taken a little by surprise by the thoughts that fill your mind in that moment.

I like your eyes, so pale and clear and yet, so expressive in their own way.  And I like the way that your eyes like to make contact, holding a gaze for an extended period of time.  I want to take in those expressions, delve in through your eyes into the thoughts that sit within your head.

I like the fact that you blush at your own thoughts, and I can tell in that moment that your thoughts have gone to a darker place, a place of depravity, a place of desire and longing.  And I watch your face flush.

And I like it.

A lot.

I like the expressions that fill your face when you are feeling embarrassed, the warmth on your face as you cheeks come awash with redness.  The look of focus when you are concentrating, when you are thinking, when there's a battle in the mind, as if there's a thought on the tip of your tongue that you want to release to the world and are not yet quite ready to share.

The moments of intense and serious thoughts, the depth of thought that is within your mind is reflected on your face.

I can't believe that you didn't know that you had a thinking face!  You do. 

And I like it.

A lot.

I like the way that you bite your lip, your teeth gently tugging at the skin of your lips, and my thoughts run to wanting to bite your lips, to devour your mouth, to kiss you, gently, softly, hard.

And I like your face and think about it in ways I've not yet witnessed.

I think about how your face will change in different moments.  Of how your face will look when you're blindfolded.  Of how your face will fill with expectation when you perhaps know a kiss is coming.  I think about how your face lights up with the biggest of smiles, but of how your face will look with tears slowly falling down your cheeks. 

I think about tracing your lips, your mouth, your chin, your neck with my nail, my tongue, exploring your mouth more with my own.

I think about your eyes widening . . .pleading . . .longing . . .tightly closed taking a pain that I may inflict.  I think about looking into those eyes when I kiss you. 

When I hurt you. 

When I tease you.

When I hold you. 

I think about how your face may look when you're sleeping. When you're happy, when you're sad.

When you're pleading.

When you're aroused.

When you've come.



*originally written 5th March 2017

The first kiss . . .

The first kiss that day was short, sweet, and gentle.

It was the first time I saw you. 

It was also the first time that I felt your lips against my own.  

And my own desire for kissing and lips were left longing with a desire from that very first moment.  With each time I saw you bite your own lip while lost in a brief moment of thought, I found my own thoughts drifting to wanting to bite them too.

It was the first time I felt the warmth of your hand touching my body as we were preparing to say goodbye. And yet, it was a moment that had played out in my thoughts during the hours we had sat talking.
In a short moment, those kisses had changed, harder, longer deeper, the feel of your tongue in my mouth, my tongue exploring your own.  Biting of your lips watching them swell and redden with a gentle force of my mouth on yours.

The feel of my palms against your face, looking into the unusual colour of your eyes,  before leaning in and taking your lips with my mouth, stealing just one more kiss, a fleeting moment, and leaving a longing for oh, so much more.

*originally written March 2nd 2017

There was something about that moment.

There was something about that moment when, as I sat on the bed and you went to your knees before me, no pushing, no asking, just naturally kneeling there before me.

The was something about that moment as I looked you straight in the eye, as you lowered your gaze and gently whispered "I want to be yours".


There was something about that moment I gripped your hair in a tightening fist and bought your mouth to meet my own, kissing you, tasting you, biting your lip as I felt it swell with each bite, with each kiss, with every moment I devoured your mouth.

There was something about that moment - that moment as I removed the belt from your trousers.  as my mind and body flooded with a multitude of feelings that I wanted to hurt you.  That moment when you knew what my mind was thinking. When you knew what I wanted and yet it was far from what you wanted and yet, it was that moment that you offered yourself to me. 

There was something about that moment when you looked at me and your words screamed "I trust you" that moment when your words so simple made a statement so big it not only took my breath away, it filled my heart with a sense of warmth and sent a longing soaring through my body straight to the depths of me.

There was something about that moment.  

It's where it has all truly begun.

Perfect was gone.

Perfect.

Standing there you looked perfect.  Too perfect for words.   

There was something about the way that you stood, the way that you were dressed, the suit, the tie, something that said perfection. 

My perfection.

I wanted to corrupt that perfection.

I wanted to corrupt you.

You watched the seductive play of my eyes, trying to read the thoughts racing through my mind that came a reality from the smile that crept slowly over my lips. 

You knew.

You knew damn well what I wanted. 

What I needed. What I was going to take. You knew that I’d play by my own wants. My own needs.   

You knew it.

You’d always known it. 

My eyes focussed on you, my eyes drawn to the tensed muscles in your neck, and I wanted my mouth upon you, tasting you, biting you, running my tongue along where the crispness of your starched cotton shirt met the gentle warmth of your skin. 
 
Too perfect for words.

As lips teased the warmth of your neck my hand reaching to your tie. You wanted it knotted perfectly in place.

I wanted it gone. 
 
Hands moving over the coolness of the shirt, feeling the heat of your body underneath. You wanted your dress shirt perfect.

I wanted it gone.

As I raked teeth along the softness of your neck, your chin, lips gently touching yours, touching exposed flesh, wanting to devour you. 

Too perfect for words.  Too perfect.  

I wanted perfection gone.

I wanted to corrupt it.  I wanted to corrupt you.

Eyes shine with lust.  Tongues meet, whipping at each other.  No softness but strength and heat as teeth gnash as I take your mouth.  Hands working over your perfect dress shirt, removing it from its perfect tuck. 
 
You knew.

Perfect was gone.