word whore

A Taste

we meet in secret, in a hotel room – you give me a peck on the cheek and tell me that as long as i do everything you say, we can meet again. if i hesitate, or fail in the slightest and you will leave and i will never see you again.

you have me undress and lay on the bed, already erect, as your eyes take in my cock, bouncing eagerly on my belly with anticipation – you step forward and blindfold me – i hear you moving and the sound of your clothes falling to the floor. i ask if you’re naked, and you tell me not to speak.

i feel you climbing onto the bed, and you tell me that i am not to touch you, that i am not to touch myself. i am not even allowed to move unless told to – you kneel over me, your legs straddling mine, looking down at me trembling with excitement, my member fit to burst.

you stroke my chest softly, with the tips of you fingers, feel my heart pounding rapidly, the way a wild beast might pound its cage in an effort to be free. you sweep your fingers down over my belly, stopping just short of my twitching shaft. you run both your hands down my sides and up over me, stopping even closer this time. you do this, again and again, getting nearer and nearer, until the lightest touch would have me overflow.

i can tell, by the way you are breathing more heavily and the light trembling of the bed, what you are doing to yourself. you remind me again, with the hint of a gasp in your voice, not to touch you and not to touch myself, knowing just how much i long to – through the mattress i feel your hips start to rock back and forth and hear your light, open-mouthed gasps reflect off the ceiling and know you have your head tilted back in ecstasy.

you lean forward, supporting yourself with your other hand on the headboard and plant the tiniest of kisses on my quivering lips. i can feel your hair brush against my skin and your breath, like sweet steam, on my cheek – your mouth hovers over mine as your orgasm erupts through you, spreading like molten, bubbling lava, to the very tips of your fingers and toes – your orgasmic moans are soft, breathy and almost whisper-like, but there is no mistaking the pleasure they portray, as you pant and pulsate over me, your body on fire with delight.

before you climb off me, you sweep a glistening fingertip over my lips, barely touching them but giving me a tantalising taste of heaven, as i lay there gasping with a mixture of unbearable frustration and momentous delight. you dress silently, still shaking with excitement, and exit the room without a sound, leaving me in the dark, glued to the spot with fear of losing you, my erection still raging like a hungry wolf.

it is only hours later when i hear an awkward cough that is not yours, that i dare take off the blindfold. only to see the ugly old, toothless maid, who has come to clean the room, standing at the end of the bed, mouth gaping and eyes bulging at the sight of my still stiff, still trembling body.


Lioness

She is like a starving lioness, craving the kill, desperate for the taste of blood, the sensation of tearing flesh and the sweet stench of terror from her prey. She needs to feed. She longs to devour and feast. She needs to eat. Her hunger so strong that it hurts, consuming her every waking moment and drenching her dreams. It’s the only thing she can think about. She simply has to feel her teeth sinking into soft, terrified flesh. It’s in her very nature, to choke and kill and devour. She has no choice in the matter. It is who she is and it is what makes her so beautiful.

The best thing about her is that she’s coming round later tonight for what she describes as a barbecue. I’m just a little puzzled, as I don’t have a yard, but I’m sure she knows what she’s talking about, and I can’t wait to find out.


I want to fuck you into a coma

i want to write poetry for you
i want to come in my own mouth and for you to watch
i want to cook for you
i want  massage your feet
i want to hold your hand
and make you tea
i want to feel my cock between your breasts and
i want to make you laugh and bring you breakfast in bed
i want to hear you giggle
i want to kiss the back of your neck, every time i see it
i want to tell you every time i get a hard on
i want to take a big magic marker and write filthy words all over your body and then
i want to take ‘tasteful’ black and white photographs of you and masturbate over them
i want you to strap on a vibrating dildo and fuck me in the ass with it
i want to ram my cock down your throat until you gag
i want to make the slowest love ever to you that anyone has ever made
and  yes
most of all
i want to make you come
come so fucking hard that you can’t help but bite me
come so hard you forget your own name
i want to  fuck you into a coma


Reblog: Word whore

more word whoring


Words are your lover

words are your lover
words are hot
words turn you on –
throb and fill you up

words satisfy
words excite
words get you wet –
make you come at night

words hold you close
words adore
words have you beg –
make you their whore

more


Calling all word whores

I just want to thank everyone for the fantastic and pant stretching response to my Word whore post yesterday. The tee-shirts are going to take some time, especially considering Jayne’s fantastic idea of using the orifices of the ‘o’ and ‘e’ to add a little viscerality to the design.

In the mean time please help yourselves to these official “I am a word whore” buttons. They are available in a variety of colours (more available on request) and can be posted on your site or printed out and stapled to your forehead. Display them, share them, sell them on eBay or sue me for calling you a whore, just have fun with them.

 


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