Tagged: Nude

The Morning After

91_The Morning AfterYou live in the sigh, in this body’s rapturous arc, in the yearning buried deep in my bones, in the flutter, in the rush, in the softness of this skin and the dripping violence between my legs, in the gleam that prickles this flesh each time your voice comes flooding back, in the night before as I open this woman to these primal desires, as I drench and tangle and knot the sheets on my bed, in the morning after when I invariably hunger, when these lips long to know, long to know you, long to dress you in scarlet smudges, in teasing caresses, in long deep passionate kisses.

The Missing

87_The MissingI miss you.

And the way things used to be.

And the way we were together.

And the fire – our fire – that would threaten to annihilate us both, sparked by the simplest word, the briefest gaze, the smallest sigh, the mere brush of bodies and fingers and trembling lips.

And the instant I felt you, felt you inside me, felt you deep in my flesh and my bones, felt you and your gaze and your weight and your voice as new and unknown and yet just like home.

And that moment, that one perfect moment where time stood still and the distance between us contracted and you genuinely craved my warmth, my truth, where we laid each other bare, stripped away the fear, the hesitation, all pretence, where we confessed it all with intimacy and absolution, where we revealed like never before, where we merged with lust and sin and tenderness, where we stood on the precipice, on the brink of something real, something more.

And the freedom of this desire – this desire for you – the freedom to feel it, to speak it, to live it and breathe it, to fuck it, to kiss and touch and devour each other until we moan and clutch and scream and come, until our bodies tremble in exhausted bliss, until they silently beg again for the glistening heat, to fuck you, to fuck it and fuck it up so absolutely you will dress me in your angry silence and cold resentment and I will shed big hot furious tears, to fuck it up, to tear us apart, to piece the shreds back together again with passion, with lightness, with careful words softly spoken, with easy steps and a gentle caress, with gestures verging on affection, on love.



The time has come, lover. I have waited far too long.

My desire for you is threatening, fevered; my patience threadbare, worn.

I need you – need you now – to move in close, to shed your jacket, loosen your tie, to bind me, possess me, to take control, to run your hands along the perfumed nakedness lingering at your door, to expose this flesh, this smooth sex dripping its desperate heat, to bare this cunt to your carnal darkness, to your gaze and your fingers, to your hard voracious cock, to the parched mouth thirsty for a taste, to seize the body here, the seductress defiant, the woman yielding, to kiss and grasp and fuck and hold the one existing for you, for you, your pleasure, your bidding.


80_RiseIf I rise up, if I reach into the light, if I breach the boundary unravelling us, if I caress the margin on high, will you be waiting, will your hands take hold of mine, will you ease my supple form into the promise of the pure indigo sky, will you take me in your arms, enfold my nakedness in yours, will you ignite this desiring soul, this yearning flesh, this sensual woman for evermore?


3cf27-64_quintessenceShe enters this world on a wave, on the swell of drapery luxuriant, riding the surf of embroidery curls, her body now realised in sensual repose, adorned in the gleam of the pearl, greeting this day usual yet unique, the essence, quintessence, not of perfection but of woman, of water, of earth, of fiery passion, of the softness of breath, of the glow of silken flesh, of the whispered kiss, of the sultry caress, of the loving force, of the feminine seeking the harmony, of the feminine craving the masculine.


58_AnticipationHow can it be, lover? How can it be?

How can it be your carnal masculinity turns me on my head so easily? How can it be the anticipation of your touch leaves me shivering, aching wet? How can it be the yearning for your flesh compels these legs to rise up to heaven’s edge? How can it be the desire for your body to slide along, between, inside this velvet heat reduces me to a whimpering mess? How can it be, lover? How can it be? How can it be the thought of you shatters this woman so absolutely?



It is only once your eyes, your lips, your hands are upon me, revealing my secrets, the mysteries of my most intimate flesh, it is only once we are joined here together, man plus woman, skin on skin, sex in sex, it is only once you bathe me in your heat, your sweat, your libations, your essence, your shimmering afterglow, does this want, this need, this lustful passion of mine make any sense.