rising to meet me
curves so very sensual
bliss in connection
Tag: sex
Making Lust
What rights did he possess to have such a lovely jaw? Blind with passion, I offered my throat to his roving mouth. My desire for him was such a riddle to me. He was tiny in personality, yet his appearance was stunning. I just wanted to bang him, but afterward would feel miserably disappointed in myself. I was nuts! Screw it. I’ll whimper later. Right now, we’ll fit together like a glove and find peace in each other’s arms.
Two hours later…
“Okay, go now, please.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve served your purpose, and I don’t like you very much.”
“Wow!”
The Trouble With Potations
great tasting kisses
i recall my clothes came off
whiskey’s fault or mine
Hunger
Redux
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.
Originally published 9/15/2018 on I Write Her.
Reblogs – Candice Louisa Daquin & The Blighters Rock
Lust, desire, love – it changes us.
Acquiescence by Candice Louisa Daquin
Misused word as it is
Boiled in yellow jars for Winter keeping
Yet without transparence, instead, smoke
Succulent mystery, preserved in silent hem
As the smell of furrier and clay pigeon
Stays memories close to their pinching garter
These spent years darkling, indivisible
Poured too fast, some too slow, caution
A girl without hat in cyclone
Your hot fingers inhabit me, I belch recollections
As stars discovered when rain clouds part
So your claim, a thin chain around my throat
Never let go, whispered as we both, sank
Stones in our mouths, plum forgotten in haste
I possess scripture in my chest, atonement
Rings my eyes in manic luster, you swoop
Past the sun, eclipsing need to breathe nor swallow
I turned to the tread of you on my neck
Staring up at bare branches slick with nectar
Finding your lips on mine, rapt plunging claim
Of your hands running electric across years
I’d you’d carved me open, I’d offer no less
This steaming pained need, unquenchable
Set in annul, your black eyes roave the expanse of my heart
Yes, I breathe, yes I cease
Against the shore you wash against, sore inside for your ruthlessness
Misused word as it is
Pull the string, smother light, kneel low
Here … Here … Yes.
they emerge from stone
a passion hewn from marble
lovers forever
Stop Playing With Your Food
be provocative
rise to the top of your game
create your future
Inspired by Moonwashed Weekly Prompt #125 – Provocative
For those of you who have never heard of Pinky Patel on TikTok. She’s hilarious AND provocative at times! 😉
Shattering The Hold
Redux
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 10/22/16 on PhiloSusi. Re-posted with minor revisions 8/10/2018 on I Write Her.
Skye Genteen
*EDITOR’S NOTE – The following pieces are considered mature content.
Kink
You’re getting me started, teasing me with promises of pleasure.
Soft yet urgent kisses land wet on my mouth, sliding past moans escaping,
A tingling begins as the trail of your tongue traces a path of whispering
Licks around protruding lips, those up and down.
You don’t know me yet, but my thing is pressure.
Build me up just so until I’m ready to let go.
Stop. Listen to me. Do this, please…
Dig your thumbs into me, pressing your hands forcefully into my skin.
Mount me and take me with hungry insistence like a rag doll.
Cover every square inch of my body with yours, pushing me down.
Make it hard for me to breathe as you expel my air.
The weight of your body makes me struggle dangerously for more.
I want to feel your dominion over me, propelling me closer to release.
It’s hot, and it’ll get hotter; let’s burn together.
Touch Me
Caress my tongue with yours
And whisper your desires to my being.
Let your legs wrestle mine
While my arms discover your back,
Feel down to the curve of your ass,
Then find the moisture between my legs
Awaiting your entry.
You’ve touched every inch of my mind, body, and soul.
Let’s come together.
Romance at Noon
You were amazing.
Are you still, I wonder?
My last memory of you was in an abandoned house, shedding my leggings and panties, lifting my green-striped midi-dress above my head, and having you remove my bra deftly with your warm hands. The room was bare except for a carpet. We tumbled down to the floor, but your arm skilfully braced me from harm. My legs splayed open, urging a meeting of the minds. Your eyes focused, and your smile acknowledged the next move. I gasped as your tongue caressed my hard clit, and your fingers massaged all the pleasure points of my vulva. I came quickly, riding out every wave of pleasure you gave me. It didn’t take long before your cock was inside of me, thrusting hard and taking me as yours until we both came. I’ll never forget feeling so exhausted from our encounter, not even wanting to pee afterward.
Please, still be amazing.
Impatient
I am tired of waiting. Whir….
~~~
Her mother calls her a free spirit, and her friends call her wild, but she thinks she’s oddly normal with her blue hair. Skye is 25 years old, and figuring things out. Pronouns are She/Her. This is Skye Genteen’s first feature on The Short of It.
Submissions are now closed but if you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submissions guidelines.
#TheShortofIt
Reblogs – Holly & MidWest Fantasy
The heat of passion burns so good…
Your lips are warm as a summer day
Your sun burned skin tastes of salt
your eyes are the color of the sea
with my body pressed to yours
we are fire.
I need his hands
sighing my name
across this impatient skin
whispering kisses
tingling along an eager
neckline
flickering tongue
teasing the very tip
thrusting hips
talking to mine
in lust’s language
Morning Delight
lay with me instead
she said
her heart yearning for me
shone in her eyes
the rain outside pitter-pattering harmony
as the stretch between us narrowed
my arm embraced the fold of her voluptuousness
the door to my heart opening
the lilies i’d picked for her yesterday
held neatly in the vase on her dresser
maintained the lingering scent in her room
we both inhaled and sighed
the intoxication of everything right
urged me to capture her long legs
and narrow wrists with my embrace
dozing was ever further from our minds
with mounting tension and heavy breathing
like a ship on fierce waters
our bodies rocked with abandon
until we lay wrecked on our bed
I Write Her 