Give me your words, of desire and love;

Of lust and hurt to make me squirm.

Give me your touch, soft as a glove;

Gentle as feathers or angry and firm.


Give me your scent of musk and sex,

Of sweat and need; your skin, your feet.

Give me your taste; unique and complex,

Salty and sweet,  my palate complete.


Show me yourself, you beauty and shyness.

Your curves and your lines, your secret place.

Feasting my eyes and my senses in silence.

A picture of beauty, a picture of grace.


We woke: entwined, naked and hot.

Our arms and bodies, entangled in knots.

My hand found your wetness and opened you gently.

Caressing your thighs and your pussy intently.


You stirred and you writhed and your legs opened wider.

My fingers explored and then danced like a spider,

which traces its circles to build up its web;

And silkily followed your flow and your ebb.


My touch then encircled you, slowly and surely.

I knew how you liked to be touched. And securely

I held your sweet centre between thumb and finger.

Deliciously, gently, I let myself linger.


Your breathing was fast as you lay there in rapture.

You tensed and released and I wanted to capture

That moment forever. Too soon it had passed.

That glorious moment, it needed to last.


I moved to embrace you a different way

With my arms round your legs and kneeling to pray

To your cunt; my lips and my tongue just exploring.

You held my head down and I heard you imploring.


I licked you so gently, my fingers just touching

Your lips as I tasted you, your hands were clutching

The sheets on each side as your back arched and raised.

We shared a short glance and your eyes were all glazed.


I stroked your sweet taste to my mouth as I focused

My tongue on your clitoris; opened your lotus.

and held your thighs wide as my tongue slipped inside.

You bucked and your rocked again, mouth open wide.


You reached for me, wanted me, opened your thighs.

I laid close and opened you, pushing inside.

Your nails grazed my back and then dug in; you wanted me

Hard and inside you and stroking you free.


We moved so deliciously, raising our game.

Each thrust of my hips was fanning the flame

Of our passion, our lust and the opening glory.

Just adding a touch to our unending story.


You quivered and held me as waves of sensation

Took both of us over; and in adoration

We clutched as our juices were mingled and joined.

And our voices were open with cries and with groans.


You chuckled, “Three times?” I joined you in laughter.

Our joy was infectious, and always thereafter

We talked of our morning, our three time enjoyment.

The wonderful time; let’s recapture that moment.

Monsieur Lerope

Monsieur Lerope has numerous friends,

Who vie for his touch and his twists and his bends.

They clamour to feel his remarkable fibre

(And then they confess to this scandalous scriber).


So Julie told me of his softness and strength,

And his marvellous reach and his wonderful length.

He took her in hand and he showed her his tricks

And now she relies on him to get her kicks.


Jacky confessed that she wanted to feel

His stroke on her flesh, which would cause her to squeal.

Monsieur Lerope was glad to comply

And he raised a few bruises and really let fly.


Caroline knew, as she ventured to see him

That he was the man who would make her blue eyes swim

With tears of joy and then tears of lust.

Oh Monsieur Lerope, you have them all trussed.


And Annie and Sue and their friend, who is nameless,

Decided to challenge him, oh they were shameless.

They taunted him cruelly; and then they were quiet.

His lashes so sweet made all three of them silent.


He carves out his path through the women of town.

And uses his skill to beat them hands down.

Monsieur Lerope is the ladies’ sweet lover.

With his skills and his harshness, their kinks he uncovers.


And when all is done and the women are squirming

He looks at the marks on their bodies, confirming

The beauty of pain is the beauty of hope.

Oh thank you, the masterful, Monsieur Lerope.

I came across a satirical poem by John Wilomot, 2nd Earl of Rochester, entitled “Signior Dildo”.  You can read it here if you wish.  Anyway, it inspired this one!

The Edge

Outside, I hear the sounds of the street.

I lie here, bound by my hands and feet.

You left me – to be ready; to prepare.

I feel your absence on my body so bare.


The breeze plays across my naked skin.

I wonder how I let you so far in.

To give myself, my body to your tender care.

To open my mind and soul: a passion rare.


To find you. To explore our lust

For life and all we discover. It’s just

Ours, and we are playing with the edge.

Of what we know. Of what we pledge.


I hear you. Entering the room.

Your heels precise, your delicate perfume.

You touch me once, to reassure my mind.

Enjoying my confusion, my being blind.


Shit! The caress of wax, so burning hot.

Hardening on my body, you found a soft spot.

Again, you drip the burning, liquid fire.

Enjoying my cries; the pain that you inspire.


This is close. This is all I wanted to be.

This is pain and pleasure, and all so carefree.

Because all the pain and pleasure is shared.

And all we do is how we can be repaired.


I find my edge and settle into sensation.

Half way between saying no and pure elation.

Keep me there, in tune with this desire.

It makes me understand, to know the fire.

Rachel Likes the Rope

“Oh, go on”, she said, “I’ve made preparations.

I’ve bought the supplies, I have high expectations.”

She handed me then a thick coil of rope,

A pair of sharp scissors; her eyes full of hope.


It was clear what she meant, with her hints and suggestions,

No room for a doubt, no hint of a question.

She wanted to play being tied up and bound

And used as a fuck toy and screwed up and down.


I took the black rope and tried it for size.

Its softness surprised me. And now to baptise

Her limbs with some knots of incredible strength;

To bind her with pretty designs – and at length.


I started quite cleverly, tying her wrists.

Then moved up her arms with a tease and a twist.

She wriggled a little and then she was still.

She found the restriction a beautiful thrill.


I was slow and methodical tying the cord.

I was neat and I found that the more I explored,

The more I aroused myself, seeing her there.

The patterns I wove made her torso more bare.


I tied up her ankles and then in a flash,

I hog-tied my woman, exposing her ass.

She moaned as I fingered her, asked me for more.

She gasped as I pushed myself deep in her core.


“Oh Rachel”, I cried, as I entered her cunt.

“You’re mine now, I’ll take you” –  I started to grunt.

What more could I ask?  What kinky desire

Would satisfy this. Oh, I know – barbed wire!

The first time

We decided to fuck; it seemed the right time.

We’d met at least twice and finished the wine.

A kiss would be good, or so we imagined,

Til our teeth clashed loudly, which dampened the passion.

We sorted that out and locked lips together.

Oh dear, your mouth! (It tasted like leather.)

A brush of your gums and we started again,

Much better, oh yes, but I got a mouth strain.


We moved on – or down; I massaged your breasts,

Whose ample curvaciousness took my caress.

I managed to elbow you hard in the thigh.

You called me a bastard and spat in my eye.

What now? I moved down, with my tongue all a-quiver.

I touched your sweet pussy, you started to shiver.

I thought it was lust but no, you were freezing.

I had to get up to turn up the heating.


We settled again, with you open before me.

Your legs wide apart, your sex in its glory.

My cock was so hard that it threatened to burst

But no, our first fuck was suddenly cursed.

The phone rang – my mother. Oh sod what a time

To tell me the news that she broke her clothes line!

I grumbled and swore and she soon got upset.

She left us and now I made sure you were wet.


I put on a condom and placed my cock there.

You whimpered and mewled and growled like a bear.

I started to enter, enjoying your tightness,

You stopped me and said (with utmost politeness),

“Is is OK if we don’t after all?

I think I have cramp.  There’s a sale at the mall.

I’d better get back to my cat and my pony.

I promised my brother I’d cook minestrone.”


We might try again, when conditions are right,

When we both sober up, one dark winter night.

What a night we will have, just full of elation

If not, I’ll enjoy my lone masturbation


Fuck! Yes! Give me more.

Take me down onto the floor.

Lick me, suck me deep inside.

Feel my wetness, let me glide

My body on yours.


God! Oh God, please don’t stop

Your teasing touch. Get on top.

Press me down and take your time.

Feel me rise up, feel me climb

The mountain of lust.


Oh, fuck, slide me in,

Let me feel your wet, slick skin.

Pound me, make me feel your lust.

Matching me with every thrust

Of your passion and want.


Fuck! Yes! Take me hard

The edge, the place where I am scarred.

Raise me with your burning heat.

Let our breath, our hearts beat

To the drum of our sex.

The Dark Place

I close my eyes, giving myself to you.

To you, my trusted partner in desire.

I lie still here, waiting for your cue,

The touch of your hand, the touch of your fire.


I feel your touch, tying the band of black,

The silk, the blindfold darkening my world.

Just this, supine, my desire hanging back.

The pause as you prepare, the whip unfurled.


You tie my wrists, my feet, solid, bound.

Then walk around me, stepping so neat.

Pausing, just to enjoy. You found

My soul, open to you , ready to meet.


You struck my thigh, the whip taut, stinging.

Again, again, again. Take my pain.

The blood flows through my veins, ringing

The best of me, the best of you, your reign.


The whip cracks my crack, entices my cock.

Fuck, that hurt, but as it should.

Carry on, my love, don’t time yourself or watch the clock,

I am yours, yours, my love, yours for good.


Only this, only this, the stroke,

The open palm, the sharpness.

The words, the words you spoke,

Which held me in the darkness.


Welcoming, welcoming the pain,

The building sensation, the thud.

The cupping hand, containing

Me, opening my gorgeous flood.


Just this. Just this, the touch

Of your nails on my skin.

Building, building almost too much

Before I welcome you in.


I kiss you gently on your lips,

Teasing them apart with mine.

My tongue on yours softly slips

Inside; a faint trace of wine.

I enter deep, entranced once more

By your mouth, your sigh, your breath.

This woman, whom, simply, I adore,

I wish to please. And now I address

The delicate skin below your chin,

Writing my love on your neck

With a pen of flesh, a small, wet fin,

Gazing up, your eyes in check.

Your smile confirms your pleasure, attests

To your joy, your deep content,

As I, hungry, take your breasts

In my mouth, delaying my descent.

I tease your nipples, kindly bite,

And lick and suck at each in turn.

Enjoying the gasp of sweet delight

That breaks from you. Then I return

To my path down your flesh,

My hardness strong against your leg.

Each inch of you I taste afresh

Your stomach tenses. Do you beg?

My lips continue their snail-like trail.

To where your legs and body intersect,

Grazing your hair, encircling the grail,

Inhaling the soft scent of your sex.

My hands move down to hold your hips,

My fingers hold, my tongue probes.

You shiver as my mouth firmly grips

And sucks at your centre, at the lobes.

I move in circles, easy or fast

Enjoying your taste as juices flow

Feeling the moment you have passed

The point of no return, I slow.

I kiss your gently on your lips

Teasing them apart with mine.

My tongue on yours softly slips

Inside; a faint taste of wine.