overnight getaway

everything is washedwhitecrisp
clean and snowpure
bliss’ed sunrise throwing it’s
majesty across our entwined limbs
, sheets and
, mess’ed hair

the sea’s
breeze/ crashing/ humming/
mixes with your whispers in my waking ear

good fucking morning –
dreams, continued in the light
of this (fantasy) fantastic new day

shake your house

i made love to one,
and fucked another,
tonight.

the first, my love,
with eyes open
the other, my muse,
with eyes closed.

oh! the symphony of voices,
i heard with my ears,
and my mind’s imaginings.

oh! the strumming i felt
from her tipping fingers
(and her ripping nails)
across my back.

oh!
, and
oh! the gripping and rippling of her
cunt as she came
, and the roaring of my fire
, and the gripping of her hips, in my hands
when i closed my eyes
again,
and shook her house, down,
down,
down,
to the dirty,
dirty ground.

gently

your mouth.
wrapped around me.
warm.
wet.
one of your hands on my bare thigh.
the other between your own
i can only hear the wetness on your fingers and my own laboured breath.
i cradled your face lovingly in my hands,
but I pulled your hair gently when I came.

leave me, alone

i’m black or white
when it comes to how
i imagine your silence
, manifesting voices inside
your mind.

are you tired of me? or tired
from the energy it
takes to hide your
love from me
and your husband and
yourself.

either way, that voice
says “leave me
alone”.

i hear it, but i don’t
know how
to listen, my love. i don’t
know how to miss
missing you, my love.

i don’t know how to
un-muse you.

go

this wine has developed quite beautifully with age.

the same cannot be said for my kink. all that’s fine about it is the line it treads with depravity.

pour me another fucking glass, before we decide who will cry, while watching the other masturbate.

‘go’.

flip flop fuck(ed up)

we hadn’t fucked for about a week, so i wasn’t going to let a not-in-the-mood inducing day be an excuse to extend the run another night. besides, we were both freshly shaved and it would be a shame to waste all of that smooth skin.

she gripped my neck as i entered her.

i gripped her wrists and held her down.

she gripped my shaft with her rippling rippler.

the image of your face (my muse, my muse, oh, my muse) gripped my senses
, and took me to the edge

but, it was
the image of the face of the young blonde from the office that smiled at me today that
, blew my fucking mind.