Archive for July, 2013

Good boy

you are on top, riding me – its our first time and we fit like a candle and a flame – our orgasms build together and, as they rise, like duel tsunamis so mighty they could tear whole continents apart, you slap me, hard across the face.

i jump in shock and pain at first, and my body jolts, ramming my cock even harder into you. i only get a second to see the pleasure this brings you before you slap me again, with the other hand and harder. my orgasm is poleaxed, although i keep on spurting into you, my prick pulsing harder than ever. your orgasm, though, seems magnified by your power, and you erupt on top of me, and your climax hits you like a huge swarm of desert birds hits the sky when excited by a storm. you call me disgusting names. you spit straight into my face and slap me again and again. then you ball up your fist and raise it up. i can see how much you want to bring it slamming down, just by looking into your eyes. you would bloody my nose, maybe even break it. our eyes lock and i brace myself. i see just how hard you have to work to stop yourself.  your eyes burn with a love very few know. the love of giving and taking pain. i see, in your eyes and heart, how hard it is not to punch me with all your force and i know that i love you.

after, we lay together and kiss. your eyes still burn as hot as your pussy and i know that next time you might not be able to hold back. next time you will want more of me. then we kiss and cuddle and you tell me i am a good boy, and that everything will be ok. just as i fall peacefully asleep, you punch me in the balls.

that is when i realise, just how much i love you.


The rain

the rain came down like bullets – every drop was as big as a pea and i just watched as it kicked up the dust and scared the shit out of the spiders and even a cat


The kisses of your whip

the kisses of your whip
are as sweet
as those from your lips.

the burning of my flesh
feels as good
as the vision of your breasts.


Drowning

Okay,
So I can’t
Stop looking
At your tits,
And yeah,
Thinking about
Your butt
And what I would do
Drives me wild
With desire.
But really,
Its by your mind
I want to be fucked.
The beautiful mix
Of sadism
And sweetness
And humor,
The power,
The fun.
I want
To be slave
To your
Imagination
And die
Drowning
In my own cum.


A little secret

Shhh, and I’ll let you in on a little secret.

I have very dark eyes, they are almost black, and I don’t need sunglasses. I do wear them though, in the summer, but only so that I can look at women’s tits without them realizing.

I am worried however that the slobbering might give the game away.


An old favourite

 

Word whore

i want to write
something dirty to you
make you come with my words
i really do

line by line
and letter by letter
every pulsating word
making you wetter

each dripping syllable
thrilling you more
touch yourself with my words
be my filthy word whore


Eurotrash douche hipster

I got my first piece of hate mail, and I have to say I was as delighted as I was proud. Bravely commenting as an anonymous user on my recent poem about breasts, this brilliant fellow called me a Eurotrash, douche hipster who looks like a sloppy version of DeNiro’s character in Taxi Driver. I almost peed myself  with delight. I am seriously considering using this quote on my about page. I tried to track him down, so I could thank him properly, but his IP address only led me to Baltimore. I have a few pals there, but I know it can’t be any of them, as they can all actually write.  Really, I would recommend reading the whole comment, it is hilarious and there is a wonderful line about me writing horrible poetry about sex to make up for my lack of a life. Feel free to reply to his lovely comment, and, if you are reading Mr Anonymous, please come back and say more, I think you are fantastic and I would love to give you a guest spot.


In the news

so, the bbc have gone kind of mental today – there are riots in egypt and brazil, an earthquake in china, and barcelona are changing their manager, but there was only one item of news on the radio and tv today: woman has baby. 385,000 women give birth every day, so how is it news? she was of a normal child bearing age and was pregnant for around nine months. the child was a boy and that was not know before today but that’s still not news, only if it had been neither boy or girl would it have constituted news. this has been rolling, non-stop news since i woke up. the sun newspaper even changed its name today to “the son”. fucksake! the bbc has a “live royal baby coverage” page, with amazing facts like how the grandparents are happy about the birth. really? are they really? i would never have guessed that. thank you bbc.

fucksake!


Your breasts

To see your breasts, I would steal,

To touch them, I would kill,

To oil them, I would take on armies,

To taste them, I would die,

And, to come on them, in Hell, I would happily fry.


The Ice Queen

The archaeologists were astounded when they discovered the body of a man frozen deep within the glacier. It wasn’t so much the discovery of human remains, buried timelessly in the unforgiving ice that amazed them, there had been dozens of such finds, but the fact that he had been found naked and erect and smiling. If only they had known the legend of the Ice Queen.
Her heart had been frozen, eons ago, through the betrayal and cruelty of men, and she had since become a thing of majestic, yet tragic, beauty. As strong and unyielding as ice itself, cold, magnificently rare and as precious as she was dangerous.
She could, with a single gentle caress of her fingers, turn any man to ice within a few excruciating seconds. All who had heard of her knew this and feared her. So it was with no small surprise that she watched him strip and approach her, his slender frame shivering with the cold. She knew that it took guts to stand that close to her: within touching distance. To offer himself naked and tumescent was even more remarkable. He must realise, she understood, that she could destroy him with a single gentle stroke of her hand against his trembling flesh. He stared greedily at her polar beauty, knowing full well the price he was about to pay but so powerfully was he drawn to her, that his life seemed a tiny cost. A life without ever having gazed on such outstanding beauty would have been a pointless one he figured, as he gingerly took a step closer.
The Ice Queen slid her fingers slowly down and then around him, the glimmer of  smile playing on her lips as she stared deep into his eyes and watched as her glacial power surged, needle like, through his limbs, his veins crystallising.
He made no attempt to escape as the heat of his passion clashed with her arctic touch, deep inside him, making his mind swim and his body shudder as pain and pleasure beyond mortal imagination collided, causing his soul to erupt before her
She watched, intoxicated, as the ice reached his heart and she didn’t let go of him before the light behind his eyes had slowly flickered and gone out.
for the 1st time in 10,000 years, she felt a little warmth, deep within herself and a tiny bead of moisture melted and trickled slowly and enticingly down the inside of her thigh.