I am starting to have an orgasm!

“What else do you….do here?”

Your kisses, like fire, burning where they touch
Your fingers the kindling, spreading the flame along my skin

Du ser ikke hva som skjer. Du hører ingen lyder. Du vet ikke hvor du er. Mine store, sterke og varme hender, kan lede deg dit du vil. Du stoler på meg, som er tryggheten.

My brain looks something like this:

Harvest Noon

 

you glow like the light of the harvest moon
soft golden rays to fill my starry heart

your sweet breath teases my naked skin
so warm and moist like a southern breeze

your scent the perfume of night blooming flowers
your taste salty and tangy like the warm sea air

your body trembles at my slightest touch
 a  willow tree, shook by the lusty wind

your mossy rise is so dewy and inviting, 
softly, and seductively, it calls out me...

 to kneel and taste your secret delights
lost in a vortex of your endless desire

as the harvest moon looms overhead
and bathes our flesh in it's  soothing light

   

W. I. Boucher September 8, 1997

I feel nothing but the cold air of the fan, making my nipples sharp like the tips of knives.

I 

couldn't 

get 

you 

deep 

enough 

inside 

me

I touch your skin, 

breath into your ear, 

kiss your upperlip softly. 

How bad do you want me?

din mørke sjokolade

min modne banan

vært sunne nachspiel

Romance Begins at 80 
And I ought to know. 
I live with a girl
Who will tell you so.

I sit by her bath
As she soaks in the tub.
Then help her out
For a strong towel rub.

She likes that a lot
But before I tire.
It's time to pour the wine
And start lighting the fire.

As the fire crackles,
We talk of the past
We met over 50 years ago
Did you think it would last?

The glasses are empty
The ashes are red
Thanks for a lovely evening 
But it's time for bed.

When you get to 90
Cherish the memories you had
Those are the only things
That can make you feel glad.

"Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be." 

-Browning

The power of submission
lies not in the ability
to kneel before another,
to give over one`s body
or in the wearing of a collar.

The power of submission
can be found only in the heart
of one who gives her love to another freely
knowing what joy and pain
will come from it.

(Roguer)

 

 

ditt jordbær er mykt 

dets søte saft 

renner i munnviken 

mitt bær er blått 

det er hardt 

du vet hvorfor 

kremen snart 

er klar 

His......

Bound and gagged, his fantasy..

her reality.

The dungeon is isolated

she is to be its resident

The appearance that she is bound by constraints is misleading...

she is bound to him by the slightest touch...

softly spoken words...she is his

she craves his mark

she gifted Him

He is sated

now, that closeness, that O/one shared..

she is poised...

she is ready...

He will use her tonight...

maybe, He'll come...

maybe, He'll call...

maybe, He remembers...

her service, imperfect...

she, reflects in her bed...

the hour approaches....

maybe, today He will come...

her wait, endless...

His pleasure to come...

her, in cuffs...

He accepts her submission...

the cane...?

the cat...?

the crop...?

her bliss....

legs, open...

breast, presented...

she offers all, to Him....

prays, to serve...

bound, pulled high...

she waits to be used....

her service, sublime...

He is proud...

she prostrates...

He's taught her well...

used, hard...

she is allowed, rest...

the dungeon floor, her bed...

apprehensive....

shy....

His patience, brings her on...

proudly, she wears His marks...

her body, claimed by Him....

her pride, pleases B/both...

the pain, focused upon her...

the pleasure, shared...

the ecstasy, when pain and pleasure become one...

He binds her....

to Him....

for His pleasure...

taking possession...

her first lesson...

she is His....

she awaits His use...

anticipating, her position of service...

His expectations, clear...

breathless, the beauty...

worthy of His taking...

her fate, long sealed...

her use, His pleasure...

blind, she sees...

trust, she accepts....

the chain reminds...

her choice was made...

she sleeps...

open, ready as she must..

aloof, she distains...

His lessons will be harsh...

chains, draped around her...

these, too, will bind her to Him...

begun with a touch...

the dance, truly begun...

dressed in her pretties...

shouting His possession...

her dress, simple...

His reasons, complex...

they touch...

tentative, unsure...

she, bound and open...

He drawing her into His web...

His hands taste...

languied, she craves touch...

His touch, explores...

rigid, she remains open....

she is shy...

but, she is here...

she, left to contemplate...

His wishes...

she fears His summons...

she dreads He won't...

presenting, she glows...

His admiration, fires her....

she, cuffed...

feels her submission...

His gentle touch....

her submission...

she despairs...

will He summon...

she craves...

on His whim...

her form, perfect...

her Heaven, His command...

open, questioning...

patient, she waits...

her solitude...

His command...

His impatience...

her joy...

He wills....

she is His pleasure..

His will..

her duty...

poised, she hesitates...

His patience, endless...

for the prize, priceless...

she, open to Him....

sweet sensations from her touch...

envelopment...

His gasp, held...

she hungers...

the taste, sublime....

poised before Him...

seconds, become hours...

tempted...

He rises to the occasion....

breathless, He anticipates...

she, tantalizes...

her breath, the lightest of caresses....

her beauty, breath taking...

her service, sublime...

her Master will be proud....

her service, divine...

her Master will approve....

the lightest of kisses....

eros unfolds...

larger than life...

the lightest of touches.

the sweetness of anticipation...

she's becoming His....

or, she's captured Him...

their bliss is near palpable...

Watching, waiting, wanting......

 

(Thundeera in ShadesOfReflection)

Ord uten lyd

        

Som en søvnig 

Kattunge

Sniker de seg over gulvet

 

Hvisker i sanden

Klatrer på gresstrå

 

Med soveknuter i pelsen

Og halen

Mellom bena

 

Gjemmer de seg

I sjelens mørke

 

Det er de

Små

 

Ordene

 

Som virkelig burde

høres

 

(tatt fra smulen)

jeg puster blodrøde kronblad

        

la meg gå
jeg skal løpe,
svømme gjennom
hemmeligheters vann

jeg vet
jeg vet at du vil ta meg
ta meg igjen
at du vil hevne deg

krigen har så vidt begynt
og jeg skal kjempe
bli den seirende
og jeg skal rope ut at ...

 

(tatt fra Irwa)