Sunday, 22 May 2016

The Roots of Rough

Sometimes she liked it rough though
never exactly knew why his
demanding hand in her hair, sometimes
choking her with his length, sometimes
using it as reins to
slap his thighs against her
arched haunches before
painting her face with his
effusions, made her so very
wet and she wondered whether
any of her underlings at work
would ever understand.

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


  1. Love the finishing thought, particularly, regarding her underlings at work...So many secrets! ;-)