Monday, 30 April 2018

Torment





She could barely bear the
torment, denied her hands or his
body pressed against her, just her
mind imagining pleasure and
pain and eveything
in between.

Image courtesy of espera1609 on Tumblr. Go look at her work.

Tuesday, 17 April 2018

Blue-Stocking





He suspected that once he'd
unfurled her blue stockings
he would unleash a
wild animal so waking
scratched and exhausted by her
shrill demands he was somehow
relieved to find her
curled up with a good book.

 
(Image used by kind permission of Holden-and-Camille.com  and Holden-and-Camille.Tumblr.com to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)

Sunday, 15 April 2018

Thursday, 12 April 2018

Key in a Lock


As the sun made its
lazy way across the sky
she waited in her
chosen pose
feeling the light
stripe her body
her senses alert for the
scratch of a key
against the
lock of her door.

(Image courtesy of the lovely espera1609 on Tumblr, with thanks)

Friday, 6 April 2018

Touch Me

Touch me like you meant it: like
you meant to caress me; like
you meant to spank me; like
you meant to possess me; like
you meant to mark me; like
you meant to kiss me; like
you meant to make me come; like
you meant to keep me wanting,
you meany, keeping me waiting.

(Image courtesy of the wonderful @Espera1609.tumblr.com)

Wednesday, 28 March 2018

Furious Fingers


The world was too much,
the world that glanced at her
quiet, clothed self and
ignored it when inside was
tightly contained the
explosive orgasm of herself only her
furious fingers could
elicit.

(Image by kind permission of @Espera1609.tumblr.com who you should go visit)

Tuesday, 27 March 2018

Sometimes


Sometimes you feel like
Andromeda chained to a rock
uncertain what
tentacled fate awaits you

Sometimes you’re in a big
Victorian house where servants
bustle past and
snigger at your nudity

Sometimes its an
artist’s studio where you can hear the
bristles brush your
flesh onto canvas

Sometimes you imagine
cold steel on your
wrists and feet and not your
iron will

Sometimes you hear a door
slam and a long silence
then an opening and the
sound of many feet

Sometimes you weep from
both ends as you
wait for some breath
sign or touch

Sometimes the wait is long but
always ends with a kiss
a strong clasp and a
whispered word

 
(Image used by kind permission of Holden-and-Camille.com  and Holden-and-Camille.Tumblr.com to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)