Surrendering

M or F?

Male. The poems are about me and my love.

Incredibly thought-provoking, viscerally intense! Appreciate you for your expressions 🙏🎈

Thank you!

A Memory in Pink

She wore pink lingerie,

And I looked at her, no gazed at her

Like it was the first time.

That is the way it has always been with her,

Ever new. Perfect for all the reasons she believes

herself not to be.

Perhaps it was not on for long,

But it did not matter. She wore it for me,

knowing full well the effect the gift would have on me.

Passion enflamed. Senses suddenly vibrant.

Heart lost to her yet again. My heart touched

As much as my body.

It is true that she submits to me,

But I am forever lost in her.

Both of us, exactly as we should be.

Stand Still

Lift up your hair and let me kiss you gently on the soft nape of your neck. 

Stand still as my arms wrap around you,  as my hands slide under your silken blouse to feel the fullness of your breasts. 

Surrender yourself.  Feel my cock swell in the hollow of your ass.  Know my hunger, and await it. 

Know that soon, I will enter you,  penetrate your body and your heart with my desire. 

Stand still. 

=====================

Tumblr killed my former site, The Other Poems, after eight years of poetry and over 12,000 readers and friends. If you like this poem, please consider reposting it so I can find my friends and followers again. Thank you.

Not Just Lust

You wipe the last drop of another man's cum, the fourth tonight, your lips uncertain, knowing I have watched each one take their pleasure with you, knowing I have seen your own pleasure with perfect strangers. Your eyes too, uncertain whether I will still want you, whether I feel the same as I felt a few hours ago, just as in love, just as passionate, the kind of passion we have always had, built on more than lust for your body, built on knowledge of who you are, needs, flaws, and glorious imperfections and even this, the dream finally fulfilled as I watch. You look up, waiting, and then, seeing.

No, my love. Nothing has changed as I wrap my fingers in your head and guide your puffy tender lips to my swollen shaft, eager to feel what they did not. Not just lust, love.

Dangerous

After a time.

Too much time.

And finally, alone.

A kiss. Where time stops.

And a kiss, dangerous for where it leads.

Every time

Less

The older I get,

The less tame

I like my women.

Deeper

Do not get me wrong.  I think you are beautiful.  I adore each curve,  the rise of your breasts,  Your hair, full, dark and wild.  The full, pink pucker of your lips,  the laughter and fear in your eyes.  You know this.  How many times have you caught me,  gazing, my eyes flowing like fiery silk on your every line,  hands caressing you  like the miracle you are?  But your beauty runs deeper,  fed by passion, the need to please,  all the way to helplessness,  and into the dark spaces we both crave. 

==========

This is one of the poems from my banished "The Other Poems" blog. I am always glad when I stumble on one, or find one on someone else's tumblr.

Every time you share a poem, you help me find one of the banned poems, and help me connect with lost connections because of the purge here.

Before

The others, the ones before, the ones who have shared you, those who thought they owned you, and perhaps you too believed they did, until us, when you discovered what owned actually means and gave yourself to a slavery you only dreamed of before, liberating and eternal, no matter the distance.

I love when one of my poems from my deleted blog finds me.

That Look

That look. Deep into my eyes. That look. That tells me this is far more than pleasure. More than desire. It is Love