Right, let’s be clear about this: I’m not shy about talking about sex on my blog, but as raunchy as I get, this is different. This is straight up attempt at erotic poetry. If that’s not up your alley, don’t read this.
Also, if you know me in person (or are related to me), this is based on a true story, so if you don’t want explicit details of me performing some sex-acts, don’t read this.
This is completely NSFW. Clicking the “read more” link is you accepting that risk.
All that said. Yes, this is an attempt at erotic poetry. It’s something I hadn’t tried, so I figured I’d experiment with it.
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White panties with lime green horizontal lines.
I can smell her through them, and it makes my mouth water.
I look her in the eyes,
She had to know this would happen if she came over,
She loves her Boyfriend, she’s told me over and over,
I told her on the phone,
“There’s no one here but me.”
She said, “That’s fine.”
I’m not her boyfriend.
I ask, “are you sure this is what you want?”
She unzips her jeans in answer,
And reveals those white panties with lime green horizontal lines.
I can smell her through them, and it makes my mouth water.
I push her jeans down around her ankles, but it’s too much,
I start to kiss the fabric between her legs as we both struggle her jeans past her tennis-shoes,
too desperate to take them off.
I can taste her on my lips as I pull away for a moment,
–tastes like when she first got cold sores, and wouldn’t let me kiss her on the mouth.
–I kissed every inch of her until finally, I paused after my last kiss on her inner thigh,
–kiss her pelvis, kissed her clitoris, ran my tongue along the folds of her, before setting to work.
She’s clutching my hair already,
Begging in words that aren’t words.
I trail her smooth legs with kisses as I drag those panties to her ankles,
She must have shaved for me.
She hadn’t done that since our miscarriage.
The underwear slides past her shoes easily,
And I plant a kiss on the nearest ankle, almost teasingly.
Words that aren’t words,
–she always refused to touch herself in front of me,
–save one delicious photograph she photoshopped out of focus
–said she wanted the trick of it to be a mystery to me
She’s slowly thrusting at me,
Hoping I won’t notice.
I kiss my way back to her,
And thoroughly enjoy the taste of her,
Her hands in my hair, pulling my against her.
It starts small as first,
“please.”
I stop for a moment,
“no.”
I continue.
“Please.”
I kiss her clitoris, she shudders.
“No.”
I continue.
“Please!”
I look up at her,
She takes that moment to drag my face up against hers,
I hold the kiss for a moment before wrapping my arm around her,
We roll to the floor.
She kisses me like she kissed me on the floor of my van,
Traffic rushing by,
My hand down her pants,
Trying to learn the ways to make her moan against my lips.
She grabs at my pants,
Ripping at the belt,
Impatient, beyond words.
She clutches at me like she clutched the night I first brought her to orgasm,
I knew the truth of it from the way she squeezed around the length of me,
Rapid-fire, over and over, as her back arched and legs trembled.
I help her with my pants,
And I can see every vein in me,
Pre-ejaculate oozing from me.
She grabs at my face and tries to take hold of me to steer me in.
I slap her hand away.
I gently slide inside her without difficulty,
She’s warm, and she moans softly.
–We haven’t used condoms for a long time
–We were actually trying to have kids.
I slide in and out of her, but it isn’t the same kind of spell I wove over her before.
I take her hands by the wrist and drag them over her head,
“Don’t move them.”
She looks confused.
I sit back and grab her legs by the ankles,
Pushing them up towards her head.
Her face reminds me of a sunrise.
–this was always her favorite position,
–begged me for it some nights,
–said the penetration was better,
–said it felt amazing.
–she came three times, by my count, the first night we tried it.
She smiled more than I’d ever seen.
He must not do this for her.
Her moans excite me,
And I thrust until I know what’s coming,
“I’m about to–”
She grabs my chest and pulls me in close.
“Keep going.”
So I do.
I go until I can feel our juices running out of her and onto me.
She’s upset.
I can understand that.
I tried to tell her.
I tried to pull out.
She gets up,
Uses my shower,
And leaves.
–Used to be we’d lay, spent, for hours talking.
I want to know someone else’s body this completely.
Her love for me died out a long time ago.
She and I only make love in memories.
