Hunger

Untitled

You’re not my type.
But I want you.

Grasp for me now
while I still have the nerve.

Be my sinful digression.
A lusty misdeed.

Come tend to this cold fire.
Raise my temperature.

I swell to your dauntless kisses
and searing touches.

Unleash me.
Feed me.

Satisfy me.

Advertisements

Shattering The Hold

angry-man-1409746880rAI

Intensity laced with lunacy, it’s seductively subliminal.
Past hurt swept away by the look masquerading as deeply in love.
It’s not love.
It’s danger.
And it easily has you.
If you are not careful.
Psychological warfare playing out in the depths of your mind.
Don’t be deceived by the charm of the snakes, the force of the demanding ones
or the egos of those where clever observation never occurs.
They will hurt you.
Maybe not right away, but they will.
The scars of learning are deep and never healing.
See it before it gets a hold of you.
**Originally published PhiloSusi 10/22/16  Re-posted here with minor revisions

Trysts In Dreams

35540_409753698395_798678395_4303234_2161206_n
binaguptapoetry.com

I stir, aroused by the return of past fiery life episodes. The intensity of the morning awakening revives exquisite sensations and feelings; I’m in awe of the desire which returns me and deposits me back into my past.

The pull of his gaze, a finger tracing my mouth and drawing me closer to his lips. Soft, warm wetness, mine mixing with his. Each kiss, tender and fierce, hasten our breaths. There’s an urgency, a tension demanding release, but craving so much more before it comes.

Our hands brush across each other, clutching then releasing at the subtle moments. Sighs and moans escape our lips when the gentleness or coarseness reaches a threshold in our bodies. Arching our bodies, pressing closer, the bulge of desire wanting to be cupped. It all feels so quick but in slow-motion. The haze of excitement moves us, our bodies following an unscripted dialogue, but knowing exactly what to say.

We explore with our eyes and undress each other with our hands. Our clothing is our only barrier, so much is already understood – the hunger to taste each other, the desire bound tightly until the right moment it can escape, the secret carnal needs – all are free in this moment.

Our tongues speak the language of sensuality, experiencing color in what we taste. The room feels engulfed by us, our red-hot fluidity. We vibrate with the energy of our imminent coupling. Every cell in our being is aroused with anticipation, every hair prickles with electricity; our bodies in tune to receive what the other has to give.

Deliciousness and moans escape our lips as our limbs intertwine, feeling the smoothness of our skin as we embrace deeper into one another. Oh, the strength of our muscles tighten around each other, neither leaving intensity behind. The excitement builds, and the urgency to satisfy rises up in us both. We are open and ready now. Our passion is strong; our desires need expression.

Our eyes meet each other hungrily, penetrating the depths of our beings. It sends us deeper into our emotional hot bed inside; the tryst becomes more and more intense. The intuitive knowing what needs to be touched and when delivers us to even more heights. What feels like invisible fire engulfs us both as we aim to reach the crucial element of our desires.

And then I wake up…

 

**Originally published PhiloSusi 9/9/15 Re-posted here with minor revisions

Deviant Bent

I don’t know what you like.
You don’t know what I like.

The head thinks it’s normal,
society thinks it’s wrong.
What you prefer feels delicious to you,
but exposing it is dangerous.

The Internet says it’s ok.
My friends say it’s ok.
I feel like it’s ok… privately.
But the judgment is real.

What’s right and what’s wrong?
Your inner circle doesn’t care.
Absorbed in your version of the unnatural,
it feels good.

But the outer structure is in control,
and pleasures stay hidden.
So back to reality now,
back to bland.

We’ll keep hiding in our world of normal.

Well, some of us.

 

**Originally published PhiloSusi 8/18/15 Re-posted here with revisions

 

Playing

Untitled

My lover begins to arouse me.

Easy, gentle caresses sensually sliding down the arm.
A trail of warmth left behind from his touch.

Hot breath and lips making their way around the small of the neck.
Small moans escape me, begging for more.

Delicate licks leaving a moist trace around the back of the ear.
Tingling feathers out to my extremities.

The tongue seeking refuge in an acquiescent mouth.
Our fervent kisses forge deep, wrestling in liquid and softness.

Touching
Teasing
Squeezing
Kissing
Laughing
Moaning
Aching
Arching

Reaching for the other for pleasure.
He does that to me when we can’t take life seriously anymore.

Only having each other will satisfy.

Chemistry

sss

A simple look in my direction gave away his secret. The sensuality vibrating towards me with intent, but with a shy and curious hesitation. He was scared.

I was wanted.

Flirtation became our diurnal repetition.

But I wanted more than a game of frustration; each day ending unfulfilled.

Every encounter promised more friction.

The heat wasn’t just in our eyes.

Desire growing with each attempted exposure of natural impulse.

And then it happened.

An innocent, accidental touch; the catalyst to change our ways.

The electricity in the room was palpable.

Our bodies and our mouths finally and unequivocally declared YES!

His bold lips rushing towards mine dizzying me with an intensity of soft passion.

My world melted in that moment.

I found strength in his embrace, and a lusciousness hard to ignore.

His body dared me to explore what now was being offered openly for me to take.

My fingers caressed every curve, yearning to get beneath the fabric.

I pulled it all away, and he did the same.

Beholding our nakedness unleashed unprecedented joy in our expressions.

And more hunger for satisfaction.

I wanted my new lover to consume me completely.

He did.

As reality perished around me, I’m taken to the near-fatal edge of my existence.

Minds swirling together in ecstasy, limbs wet with our body’s mist.

Deep breath-taking, in your ears heart-pounding, a steady pressure-building sexual agitation.

All culminating in an unfathomable intensity.

It’s like we’re hydrogen and oxygen.

Cook, Meditate, F#@k

Untitled

Pausing my distressed state, I distracted myself diving deeply into gastronomy.  Immersed and focused on fusing the flavors of carefully selected ingredients, I relished the finished product. Ingesting my creation, finding enjoyment in it, allowing a small measure of an easement to occur in my current state of dysfunction.

1.png

The problem at hand begged for inner reflection. Waking every morning was a ritual of opening the eyes and viewing out my bedroom window, just staring at the trees and listening to the sounds of nature. Sometimes for hours. Processing, mulling over and remembering every moment of pain. What felt like agony and torture initially gradually allowed a sense of understanding to move into the grey matter.

2

A deep need to release anger and frustration created a passion for a familiar act. I required the physical focus, a hungry attack on the flesh. It was an attempt at duplicating intensity, replacing pain with pleasure. And it was had.

The process helped.

I got through my trauma.