Seduction

Oh

what have you done

I could taste 
                           sex
                                                         on my tongue
and

kept inhaling                             
                    thoughts of you

There is no escaping the lust I serve
                            but that we knew that you deserve

Awakening my senses to a lovers dance

You and I in powerful want
                  in powerful chance

All the possibilities

It was you, you did it

Everything about me is now alive

Now my strength awakened

Alive beyond comfort deprived

Too sensitive and quickened
                                this thrill to sustain

To what passion would do

Let me crawl in your mind
and
excite the possibilities
                                     between you and I

I will undress your conscience
                                                and expose your pleasure

I will feed on the eccentricities
of your psyche

You may never forget

With passions touch
                   know me now and
                                   know me complete

With moist lips and skilled tongue
                                                                            swallow my pride

and let me penetrate you with
                                                                 ecstasy implied

Fabric

Moment on
the edge of thrill
all passion to fulfill

An instance where
senses linger
in a fraction of a second
with all to bare

Where bodies are in full thrust of passion
aching, arching and wanting full exposure
dancing in beautiful movements
on the sheets with lust composure
flesh struggling to get closer

The moment is now and
her body acquiesces his want

His hands and fingers
now instruments of purpose
as he pulls the final pink lace fabric
from her quickened skin

Does He

Untitled, a photo by `Vorfas on Flickr.

Does he
know how to use
every sense he has
to delight in you,
I do.

Does he
know how to use his finger tips
to touch and experience
your curves.
To touch the sensitive places
over your heart.
To see your response,
I do.

To listen to your sighs.

Is his
pleasure seeing
you have pleasure,
mine is.

Does he
know how to gently
suck the edges of the
petals into his lips
tasting the dew of your flower,
I do.

Does he
understand the advantage
of the tantric pace and
style and how it begins
long before your touched,
I do.

Does he
know how to use
the instrument of his words to
gently brush the hood of your pleasure,
I do.

But only after
meandering and dancing
the dance of sweet tease
over the plateau of your belly
and to the hollows
of your thighs. Letting his
fingers run untended
exploring the forest and springs.

Does he
know how to lock his eyes
to yours while you build
and climb to the peak of climax,
gauging your pleasure
as pushes himself into you,
I do.

Is he
thankful that you share
yourself with him,
understanding that every moment
with you is a gift
and not a possession?

Does he love your soul
as much as your body,
I do.

Naked

Agny, a photo by C. Escudero on Flickr.

The mystery
of a woman’s
nakedness
is more about
the sharing of secrets
than
curves
and
giving
than exposure.

Photograph

47390010, a photo by !borghetti on Flickr.

Seeing your photograph, I melted
like a whisper upon your tenderness.
 

I see the composition of a lover,
with curves of desire and hair of fire
and flesh to etch poems upon
with lips known to inspire.