Simmer

simmering skin, night of succulent sin
lit by dark lamp’s phosphorescence
long after switch turns off
glowing just enough
to see outlines — fiery flesh designs

an aura of molten gold traces glittered shoulders
lips and heaving hips
in orgasmic arrays of photonic display
filling holes where mind roams
when reference removed
all but body lines bared 

daring to dance to unseen audience
deeper entranced, deeper ensconced
until no one knows
where I end 
and you begin

 

~ Emily C.

6.6.17

Everest

Beads of sweat
heated skin
eyes closed
feeling him
against me
in the night
the dark again
comes as I
come in waves
against him
swallowing
all my moans
biting lips in
vain to keep
sounds in
they still escape
to heights that
rival Everest
peaking with
intensity that
sets me high
upon a view
of mountains tall
the rolling hills
of breasts and bones
the sweat still
avalanching down
tracing lines
like tears crying
purest joy

 

~ by Emily C.

 

3.14.16

Derailed ~ A Duet (Explicit)

derailed1

The dark night seeps; through glassy pores
A dim light flickers; the only spark
Illuminating; one single soul
riding an empty carriage; an empty train.
The doors open wide; she flies in.
He smiles, she pants; as train departs,
she wrings her wet hair; catching his smile.
That next distant stop; not for a while.

She sits, slick with a slide on the red rawhide,
facing him, peeling off her soaked layers.
He cannot help but observe her demeanor,
the way she moves, her graceful grooves,
curves kissed by raindrops slipping slowly.
His tongue instinctively licks his lips in response,
his heart pounds as he thinks lustful thoughts.
She catches him mid-stare…and doesn’t let go.

“Wet outside?” His smile tells the tale
“Saturating.” As she flicks her long, dark hair behind.
The nape of her neck now exposed, wet.
Her legs spreading, ever so curiously.
His eyes transfixed in her motions,
“Where you headed?” She enquires,
knowing full well, the answer laid bare
“You.”

Core temperature escalates, moisture now steams
off her skin’s seams, evaporating pheromones
wafting his way…he inhales deeply, standing up
marking her in humid heat; her eyes scan his tense length
adjusting just so, luring him back into corner window.
“One-way ticket?” She asks. “Two-way, non-stop.” He says,
leaning in…drawing her head to his in passion’s plea,
lips on lips pursued like a lightning strike decree.

Cold-pressed now against the pane, her juicy lips
now inflamed, pores precipitating in heated beads,
cold rain of past, transmuting sweat it thrives.
His hands draw her in, that soft, sweet flesh,
the small of back, the jaw, the neck,
felt and held, such rapturous delight.
Flickering in passing speed, the train shudders,
she bites his lip, blood trickles a smile; more.

Lips locked, wet hand slides down to cock hidden.
She unzips and draws out what her body now wants,
his hot breath breathes on her chest, he leans against
the warm flesh that welcomes him in, the train lunges
he plunges deep in, as the lights flitter out like fireflies;
darkness one moment, only bodies felt as skin melts…
light the next, for a brief glimpse of predatory eyes’ glint.

Clack of tracks, unmitigated moans, pure percussive lust.

In now blackened journey, of racing train,
a carriage shifts in violent throws, vibrations pulse.
He grasps her ass, pussy lips in lock around his cock,
thrusting further in, her heat-drenched canal.
A bend in track throws them down to red rawhide,
no grounding halt, for these two entwined.
Slippery, wet-bound, lustful bliss; wicked plans unfold:
His train, her tunnel, this night, destination found.

Rhythmic rumble down the line, tunnel headlight shines
like her eyes in the dark, a hint of her secret spark
caught fire down below, she bellows and moans.
At the height of ecstasy, her shuddering glee,
one blissful moment she swells around with a squeeze,
throws her head back, her walls around him erect
ready to take his eager essence as her liqueur tonight,

a digestif of highest order, her appetite whet with delight.

Her screams bursts clear, like a steam train of old
as he blasts wood to fire, load after load.
His desire boils her within, fuel to her billowing stove.
Eyes locked in knowing, both in tighter embrace,
a total furore on rails, a climatic kiss claims.
“Last Stop” announced; Oh the delicious bittersweet!
On these iron tracks traveling, they came as one,
with suggestive derailment, of nights other plans.

That red rawhide slick with sex, their sweat drips.
His tongue traces down to where they connected,
like two train cars perfectly set, locked, matched…
sucking off the salty sweet remnants of her love.
With a lurch, the locomotive pulls into the station,
she licks him clean, leads him onto the platform.
“Room 15?” she says, hotel key slipped to his palm,

“Two return tickets please,” he tells the window.

….“All Aboooard!”

~ Mark from MTmind & Em from PoetGirlEm

*************************************

Had a fun time working on this collab with Mark from MTmind.  Little did he know when he sent me the first stanza that I have a thing for trains. Extra bonus!

Do check out his page, he writes some beautiful, tantalizing, poignant art!  And he’s straight up just an awesome Aussie guy. You won’t be disappointed. Thanks, Mark! I look forward to more in the future.

 

 

Island of One

Island of one
in a world of man
absent of all
nothing to land
my boat on
that travels from
far away times
searching for you
for solid ground
to settle my feet
in the sand of your heart
lie in the heat
of the sun of your soul
peel off my clothes
bury my mind
in your warm naked skin
that holds all of mine
with caresses of senses
that tickle my veins
sending shocks to my heart
leaving scars to say
that you’ve been here before
many times with your lore
of love that burns
all of my core
to smoldering ashes of lust
an ember sparked
sending fire back
to the start
where I launched this boat
searching for you
the island of one

to make it

island of two

~ by EC

3.12.16

“Island of One” ~ Audio

  

Little Red Door

Behind the little red door
pleasures await your taste
mask yourself with ribbon
tied in bows around your face

Dim lights lure you to the floor
seductive beats compel hips
swaying with pulsing heat
strangers kiss you on the lips

Whatever fancy you desire
it awaits taking, insists
behind the little red door
tonight you say yes

Yes to the man with the rope
upon the stage, tying
suspending bound bodies
the webbed flesh flying

Dip into fountain flowing
yes to liquid chocolate drips
across nipples bared, shared
behind the little red door

Consenting adults freed
frolicking on velvet chaise
that rocking rhythm
gives you away

Behind the little red door
time and identity cease to exist
mask or no mask, no one will tell
— you have no name tonight

You will arrive you, leave new
you will ask for more
behind the little red door
knock-knock…

who’s there

~ EC

 

1.17.17

Swell

deep.
deep dream
oral lick, scream
half asleep, half awake
writhing to the swell
engorged heat down below
catch myself moaning, panting
semi-aware of the climaxing
heavy breath, in body’s wet
rolling roar, unstoppable
torture of the best kind
orgasmic release
of freest kind
no holds
barred
more

~ EC

1.8.17

*It’s not just men who have orgasms in their sleep.

 

Long is the Night

heat of the moment
pulled in to stoke it
drawn by magnetic
force without notice
no choice but surrender
instinctual desire
knocked back by fire
soul’s every cry
shakes the foundation
breath undertaken
rhythm deemed driving
one way road winding
building in heightening
pleasure near frightening
headed for collision
dangling from cliff edge
oblivious to danger
swollen to pain
relief at crescendo
addiction our union
twitching wet spasm
thick throbbing orgasm
lips that lock tight
neck bare for a bite
scared of withdrawal
each the other follows
our scent marked divine

long is the night

~ EC

12.22.16