Thrill

September 4, 2013

Thrill

You can see it
when you touch me
and it steals my breath.
I know you see
because when I gasp
you quickly look to see
if you’ve hurt me somehow,
but you’ve not,
your touch has merely
ignited
me.

And with that touch
of flame
the heat spreads
at an alarming rate
until
my knees grow weak
my heart is racing
my eyelids flutter
and I relax
in your grasp:
yours
to do with
as you
will.

 

 

 

Butterfly

May 29, 2013

Butterfly

I am tentative, unsure.
I hesistate.
Yet you, you know me
so well,
you sigh a moment,
and I whisper,
“You know
I get this way… this
is who I am.”
And you softly
smile.

Your hands on
my shoulders
are weights
at first.

And I shudder,
like that butterfly,
wings trembling,
ready to take flight.

But your smile is sure,
and you bend to
kiss softly
because you know
any harder caress
might excuse
my retreat.

And now, though
I’m still unsure,
your confidence
grows
and your lips
press mine, you
ease your tongue so
softly
I feel safe,
relax a tiny bit.

Your hands begin
to roam.
I sigh, breathe,
and soon I feel
the bed behind my knees,
urging me down, down
into a cloud of
comforter and warmth.

I fall.

It seems sudden,
I am bare
and befuddled by
sensation, and
momentarily
wonder how.

But now I am pinned
to the bed—
like a butterfly
pinned to a board—
by your tongue.

The warmth grows
until
a silent (amazing)
implosion
makes me forget
everything:
cares, worries.
Shyness.

And when we join
there is no more
hesitation.

Heat

November 8, 2012

Heat

Fire
burning
feeling heat
turning inside me
making me yearn for your kisses,
your touch, your renewed desire for me, only me
and it awakens my longing for you, only you,
makes me writhe, surrender to you
knowing as I do
fire burns
inside
you

Breathe

October 26, 2012

Breathe

Breath
slow and steady,
eyes slightly dilated
in anticipation.

And then I see you
I smell your scent
nostrils flare
heart speeds up
lips curve in a
smile.

Your kiss is
delicious.

Your hands
know where to go.

You caress me
in a way, familiar
yet always new,
and so I always
melt again,
into your touch,
parts of me liquid
and craving
and ready.

My breath is faster now.
And as we undress,
wildly and frantic
for more
(skin
more
skin
more)
we lose ourselves
in this moment of
sin.

Our breaths
are quicker now
as we finally
meet
in that essential way.

I want to scream
(moan)
(cry)
with the pleasure of it
and so I do.

And so do you.

And it pushes us on,
your mutual pleasure
giving me more,
mine inspiring you,

which is why it is called
making
love.

And when our climax
comes
(and comes)
(and comes)
in an echoing
explosion
our breathing is more
like gasping
staccato notes
punctuated
with mono-syllabic
phrases that make little
actual
sense
(oh…)
(Ohh!)
(Yes!)
but communicate
everything.

And hearts still pounding
(pounding
pounding)
as our sweat-slicked skin
melts into a puddled
hot
mass
of well-warmed
muscles
our breathing slows,
with the
occasional
quiver
and
(ooh…so)
satisfied
moan.