The sun would be jealous

because of my adoration for you;

How does it feel being adored?

Adored like I adore you,

tell me;

How does it feel?

Because I am speechless,

I just speechless adore you.

The sun would be jealous 

of the warmth you’ve planted inside of me,

the wind envious of how you

sweep me off my feet,

words no longer hold enough

meaning for what I would say;

they fall short every single time.

My inspiration has exceeded 

the power of these letters too.

But just maybe if I could

guide your hand to my

very own chest and have your

fingers plunge into my flesh

to wrap around my heart,

you could catch a mere 

glimpse of how I pump

you through my veins.

I breathe, 

I see

and I taste you

constantly…

I would run into your arms just like the 

waters always come back to the 

shore after they’ve been gone away.

These days I found a bit of 

you in everything I see.

I adore you.

How does it feel being adored?

Adored like I adore you,

tell me;

How does it feel?

My adoration for you;

tell me;

How does it feel?




Miss Monique
Code: 1402170175448© 2014 Safe Creative
License: All rights reserved

Tanken har ikke nok i sig selv

den skal finde ideer

plante ord og sprede korn

skabe plads til flere.

Hjertet har det på samme måde

det skal finde kærlighed,

begge søger livets gåde

og venter på besked.

(E.Juul)

Penisblomst er svulmet og vokset 14 centimeter: Nu springer den snart ud - Byliv | AOK

Penisblomst er svulmet og vokset 14 centimeter: Nu springer den snart ud - Byliv | AOK

I love you, but I'm not in love with you. Just because I tell you that I love you does not mean that I am in love with you.

I am a person who is full of love. I want to give my love away. I need to give my love away. This does not equate to me being some unstable individual looking to latch on to the first person that comes along. I have far too much pride for that. I do, however, love to love.

I love who I am and who I become when I am with you. Perhaps you make me feel alive, whole, beautiful, cared for, wanted, desired, stimulated, challenged, appreciated, breathless. Maybe you even make me feel loved. I love that I feel like a better person because of you. I love the smiles that you bring my heart and my face. My life is better because of you being woven into it.

I naturally give my love away. It may be in the form of kind words, encouragement, preference for you, adoration, my body, my mind, my soul. I have a need to express my love and to share my love. It is hard for some to understand what my motives are. I just want to love you and appreciate you for who you are. I feel like we all want and long to be loved. It is hard for me to hold back and not give you a small gift, touch you, hug you, hold you, kiss you or to not send you a note telling you how wonderful I think you are. To try and keep my love bottled up inside makes me miserable.

Maybe you are a friend, a lover, a play partner, submissive or bottom, a Dominant or even a Master. You are important to me, not your role. I love you just the way that you are and for who I am when I am with you. It is because of you that my journey has many moments of happiness that I can treasure.

When I see your smile, hear you laugh or know that you are happy, my heart celebrates with you. I love your strength, your heart, your will, your confidence, your intelligence, your humor, your skills, your body, your mystery. I do not need to know all things about you to love you. I simply love you, but I'm not in love with you.

Miss Monique

Code: 1404010494344© 2014 Safe Creative

Todos los Derechos Reservados

du så meg
trodde du

det var ikke meg

kun skallet

det er utenpå

helt synlig

jeg er
på innsiden

skal du se meg
må du
knuse skallet

"Inner Compass"

Kvartet om os to

I

Stærk og strung
spændt som streng
står jeg ret
støbt af stål
Du er blød og varm, dine hænders flader
lader mig se sommerens solskin og
høre forårets sang
Var jeg blot helten,
er kun mig
Stærke arme
favner dig
stålsat liv
møder dig
Du er som en plæne med
fløjlsblødt græs, duft af blomster
stemmen kvidrer som fuglens næb

II
Hvor løb den dog hen, den tid vi havde
hvor blev den af, den drøm som gjorde livet virkeligt
alt gled blot ud
i havets bølger
huset på sandgrund væltede ned
alene på klippen sidder jeg nu,
ville hellere have været skyllet med
blevet et med havet,
et med det der svandt

III
Dansen toner
kalder nu
lader glæden
bære os
glemt er alle gamle sorger
væk er alt der skilte
Sindets lyse
glædeslamper
spreder nu de
mørke dampe.

IV
Dybe harmoni
sjælens kærtegn skaber,
gør så godt i hjertets stue,
dine øjne taler nu
Glade melodier
sender dine blikke,
det gør livet til en dag
mere end de blotte ord

(københavnerdigteren 2014)

Elsk

Den galne Guten min Hug hev dåra, 

eg fangen sit som ein Fugl i Snåra; 

den galne Guten, han gjeng so baus; 

han veit, at Fuglen vil aldri laus. 

Å giev du batt meg med Bast og Bende, 

å gjev du batt meg, so Bandi brende! 

Å gjev du drog meg so fast til deg, 

at heile Verdi kom burt for meg! 

Arne Garborg

Relax...

CAT - samleieteknikken for de kresne

CAT - samleieteknikken for de kresne

Life is like a dick. Sometimes it gets hard for no reason.

skeiving.no

You might not be someone's first choice, but you're a great choice for the someone in the mirror.

You may not be wealthy, or have a fancy car, shoes and blood diamonds; which is why you are priceless.

You don't have to pretend to be someone you are not, because you are great at being you.

You might feel shame over some of the things you've done in the past, but be strongly proud of how those experiences created who you are today.

You may not be someone's version of perfect, but you don't need to be because

if you are not lovingly received just as you are, you can simply get up and walk away.

Now that is Power.

(L_a_L-010614)

Bergen Kink og Kinbaku: Bergen Kink & Kinbaku at BoundCon 2014

Bergen Kink og Kinbaku: Bergen Kink & Kinbaku at BoundCon 2014

Preparation

Preparation

All Things Lesbian: NEW Music Video From LESBAND "Seven Mouldy Figs"

All Things Lesbian: NEW Music Video From LESBAND "Seven Mouldy Figs": You must know by now that we love promoting up & coming LGBT artists over here at All Things Lesbian. Well, remember that time we to...

The rain keeps falling,

drops on my window,

whispers of wishes,

wishes for you,

yesterday I tried so hard not to cry,

today I didn't think of you once,

except when the rain fell,

drops on my window

and my whispered wishes,

always wishes for you,

wishes for you

my love,

for you my Master.

Miss Monique

Code: 1404200624155© 2014 Safe Creative

License: All rights reserved

1.påskedagetreff i Oslo (takk til Cupido)

Jeg titter opp, og ser solens lys, trenge igjennom de mørke, regntunge skyer. 

Det sitrer i kroppen. Jeg føler og vet jeg lever. 

Damen ved nabobordet smiler. Leser hun mine tanker?

De trenger hennes lys; det er sterkere enn solens.

Do you remember what we just did?

When I was Linnéa in the Sky with Diamonds...

Please tell me…

Do you remember what we just did?

When Linnéa was flying high of endorphins...

Yes

and yes,

it will be soon,

very soon,

no stress,

no,

soon,

very soon...

we will have those plays with pleasures,

joy and pleasures.

I need to tell you,

that here I am

as your most precious gift,

I adore you with all my being

and I'm praying

that each day by your side will be infinite.

I need to feel the power

of your role in my humble me.

I speak from my soul,

from where I miss you so,

I feed myself from our moments together,

from your look,

from those kisses we've exchanged

which say more than words can say.

Yes

and yes,

it will be soon,

very soon,

no stress,

no,

soon,

very soon...

we will have those plays with pleasures,

joy and pleasures.

I know that very soon,

will we be back together in our intimacy

and I at your feet,

as it is my illusion.

I adore you my Master

and though I know you know...

I need to tell you that

every second I breathe.

Yes

and yes,

it will be soon,

very soon,

no stress,

no,

soon,

very soon...

we will have those plays with pleasures,

joy and pleasures.

Miss Monique

Code: 1404040526626© 2014 Safe Creative

License: All rights reserved

I’m pretending like nothing,

I’m sitting pleasant in an armchair

I forget about everything,

the time and present

and everything else around me,

I’m feeling a butterfly under my skirt

and you do not make me blush honey,

I’m coming soon,

I’m feeling a butterfly under my skirt.

And I trust you honey,

I feel the throbbing fire

of your shivering body,

I want everything you have

and I know you want to give it to me

under my skirt.

We close the moon outside

and turn off the rising sun;

I am passionate

and I am yours,

I feel the throbbing fire,

my lips begins a rhythmical suction,

which accelerate your emotions

you're shivering with anxiety

and I crave to feel your desire and humidity;

now I want everything you have,

everything you have

NOW

under my skirt

we close the moon outside

and turn off the rising sun.

I am passionate

and I am yours,

I feel the throbbing fire,

then you invite me and with passion

to feel emotions of tides coming and go

like overwhelming tsunamis,

your body accelerates my emotions

and I feel a rush of passion

under my skirt.

You can feel my ecstasy

and you rush when you feel that instant,

in a wild swing,

with your body hot and wet.

Then,

then you come flowing

and I hear your moans of pleasure.

Under my skirt,

under my skirt.

I love you.

Miss Monique

Code: 1403260432458© 2014 Safe Creative

Todos los Derechos Reservados

det kan gjerne

gå sakte

bare det ikke

stopper opp

You will take me there,

to the room with endorphins of pain,

the room I can’t unlock.

Tight pearl satin rope

bites into my wrists and ankles

bound for my pleasure.

Let your words

twist my soul

and pull it though

the key hole

into the dark room

the room with endorphins of pain,

the room I can’t unlock

You will hurt me.

milking the endorphins,

from my most tender parts,

when you take me,

when you take me,

to the room with endorphins of pain,

the room I can’t unlock.

Taking me

beyond the bounds

of ecstasy

where I will float

high above,

through clouds of pleasure

drifting amongst

undreamt of faraway worlds

in the room with endorphins of pain,

the room I can’t unlock.

You will inhale my cries

and moans

like that first gasp

of a drowning woman

pulled from the waters

of certain death.

We will feed our hunger

like vampires inhaling

the life essence from

each others soul

living each eternal moment

as if there were no other,

here in the room with endorphins of pain,

the room I can’t unlock.

 A dark lust

deep within

screams and

must be fed.

Come, submit

my body so

I may free the

quintessence of me

being trapped

so deep and

helpless within.

You will take me there,

to the room with endorphins of pain,

the room I can’t unlock.

Miss Monique

Code: 1402050038023© 2014 Safe Creative

License: All rights reserved

http://www.smil-norge.no/index.php/8-informasjon/29530-kinkferansen-2014

C U

jeg står på øverste trinn
trappen fører til kjelleren
hva hindrer meg i å snuble

Galaxen vågner
af æonernes slummer
og tænder kosmos' hjerne
i støvet fra evigheden.

Hærskarer venter på
forløsningens triumf.

Ud springer arketyper
i søgende bølger
bag forståelsens grumme slør.

Håb fødes
i dvalende dyner
bag klarhedens alter.

Et romantisk strejf
eller en gnist
fra Mahler's rige
signalerer minder
om symfoniske længsler.

Gudernes pauker varmes op
og transformeres i lange skrig,
hvori glæden maser på.

Urdybets afgrunde spejler sig
i neurale konstellationer
bag meningernes vanvid.

Tiden får has
på sin venstre albue
og kanter sig rundt
om Moderen.

Fjerne væsener
ser på os
og undres over
vores sløvsind.

Den vediske bøn tager form
i intuitionens øre
uden noder og vished.

Mytiske figurer blander sig
i fostrenes våde mørke.

Skabelsens uendelige stilhed
brydes af viljens villen væren.

Et studium åbner sig
bag Selvets uforklarlighed.

Indre vulkaner gurgler
deres ildsøer ud
i lange dråber
af magnetisk torden.

Hans Find Andersen - 2001

Sol og sten
vi danser i cirkler
og er ingenting
lys der forandres
i stål og beton

Sol og glasskår
hærdede mure og plastic
her går vi med
bakterier, celler og sorg
til lyset forandres

Regn og kulde
vi fryser af ingenting
med åbne sår
griber vi efter lykken
og fanger en myg
i kådhed - er vi noget
for en dag.

Kirsten Wigen Steffensen - 2001

Og så kom regnet... Vinden tok fatt, og paraplyen vrengte seg. Jeg fikk nok. Orket ikke mer. Jeg var så lei av skyene. Jeg var så lei av regnet. Men mest av alt var jeg lei av ikke å ha kontroll over smerten. Så jeg kastet meg ut i det iskalde vannet. Jeg vet ikke om jeg ga fra meg kontrollen, eller om jeg mistet den. Jeg vet bare at det føltes bedre å hoppe i havet, enn å stå på land med en vrengt paraply. (ukjent)



The forest still whispers your name

Her death is a shadow, a memory on my wall   the cobwebs catch the bitter dust once a year, in August when the moon is full   and the room is empty.   She seeps through the cracks in the brickwork brushes my hair, asks me for a cigarette     dances on Friday night, drinks at the old rec, scents of youth on her lips where the blood dried.     The shadow lingers   for a moment, as her bones fall   to neat piles of ash on my bedroom floor   and she is gone, no more a smile but a whisper- of confessions, hidden     amongst murderous trees, evermore.

Written by Missy. (Miss_Sub)

 

Verden faller fra hverandre.

Og jeg tar alt av skyld.

Jeg startet dette kaoset.

 

Død er min eneste vei ut.

Min død vil rense verden.

Ånden min vil ikke bli igjen.

jeg kommer til å forsvinne for godt.

Livet mitt forbanner mine elskede.

Livet mitt ender snart...

 

En vegg dekket av blod.

Blod røde kniver på gulvet.

For en grotesk måte og ende mitt liv.

 

Fortiden min er mørk.

Ingen skal huske fortiden min.

Mitt pågående liv er et levende helvete.

I fremtiden er jeg begravet under jord og gress.

Og jeg rotner bort til støv og glemsel...

 

 

 

 

Forstyrret personlighet.

Forvridd, syk og uklar.

Aldri forstå realiteten.

Og stemmene forsvinner aldri.

Grotske mentale bilder

Som brenner seg i sinnet mitt.

Bryter ned og dør i fortvilelse...

 

Stemmene multipliseres.

Forvirrelse og misledning.

 

Schizophreni

sinnet mitt splittes.

 

Psykotiske illusjoner.

Tro er ikke for meg.

Voldelige, tøffe følelser...

Påvirker alle rundt meg.

Ekstrem paranoia.

Aldri stole på noen.

Ødelegger sinnet mitt, bit for bit.

Eksistens begynner å rustne...

 

Stemmene multipliseres.

Forvirrelse og misledning.

 

Schizophreni

Jeg vet aldri hvilken stemme som er meg.

Paranoia erobrer meg.

Lidelse eller sykdom?

Schizophreni..

 

De stirrer på meg.

Jeg stoler ikke på noen.

Og ingen er til å stole på.

 

Tanker om drap.

Alle er min fiende.

Stemmene vil at jeg dreper.

Hjernen min er ille.

Ødelegger sinnet mitt, bit for bit.

 

Stemmene multipliseres.

Forvirrelser og misledning.

 

Schizophreni

Jeg vet aldri hvilken stemme som er meg.

Paranoia erobrer meg.

Lidelse eller sykdom?

Schizophreni!

Soturri, 22 - 2010

Måske er det tankerne
der skaber barrierer
stopper hvert forsøg
på samhørighed
omdanner vilje til blokering
gør handling til stilstand
skaber denne uendelige opblomstring
af had
det giver ingen mening
øjnene ser det ikke
men usynlige bølger
af uvenskab
drukner
det spæde forsøg på sammenhold.

Dag efter dag
æder hinanden
falder til bunds
bundfældes
med millioner forbudte følelser
skaber et hav af erindring
om svigt.

Ida Pedersen

Å måle dere etter deres minste handling

er som å måle havets styrke

etter skummets svakhet.

- Khalil Gibran -

Den Frie Pik

Uden fortid
Uden tillæg
Uden forbehold
Uden samvittighed

Uden ønsker om andet end de næste ti minutter
Banker den sin lethed op i din nybarberede
Her er ingen forhindringer, intet på spil. intet.

Ommøblerer alt
Renser ud
Skubber alle problemer og al smerte
Længere op
Længere op
Op i livmoderen
Til kærlighedens hastigt glemte ar,

Som skriger
Som skriger af betydningsfuld smerte

Glem det
Glem dem
Den frie er nem
Den er der uden tillæg
Uden krav og krævelser
Uden at stille spørgsmål
Udgyder den sin sterile opium
Og forlader dig så igen.

Pænt af den at komme!

Erik From 110214

Please her Mistress

by Red Goddess

Dressed only in cuffs and collar
She waits at Mistress feet
To follow every command
No demand too foreign

For to please her Mistress
This pet will give her all
Body, mind and soul
With eyes fixed she awaits

To please her Mistress
Pain accepted without regret
For through that she focuses
All her responses but for one purpose

To please her Mistress

Tårer        

Tårene som triller
Når jeg slipper
siste lille rest
av kontroll
Jeg overgir meg
fordi jeg vet
Du passer på


Tårene som triller
følelsene som blir
for overveldende
jeg flyter bort
vet ikke helt
hvor jeg er


Tårene som triller
jeg har vondt
klynker og skjelver
smerten er for sterk
men jeg stopper Deg ikke
vet Du passer på


Tårene som triller
jeg savner Deg
det gjør vondt
jeg savner oss
savner overgivelsen
det overveldende
jeg savner smerten
ønsker å stoppe
disse tårene




lailur 2013 - FL

Poetry by the Masters

 

Wimpy's Poem for the Sea Hag by E. C. Segar We slew our foes,   My sweetheart and me And streams of Corpuscles   Flowed to the sea All over the walls and on the floor Were buckets and buckets and buckets of Gore We stepped on their necks,   On those slippery decks, As my sweety and me went aft.   And amid all this,   She gave me a kiss, And amid all this we laughed! For she was the Hag of the Seven Seas,   And I was her understudy, And never a tremor ran through her knees,   Though decks were befouled and ruddy. In the depth of her eyes   Was the Blue of the Skies As well as the shadows of night.   And I'll sing her love's song E'en though she's all wrong   For I, too, am not in the right.

Det er bedre å snuble i riktig retning,

enn å gå med faste skritt feil vei.

If:

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Is equal to;
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26

Then...
H+A+R+D+W+O+R+K ;
8+1+18+4+23+15+18+11=98%

K+N+O+W+L+E+D+G+E ;
11+14+15+23+12+5+4+7+5=96%

L+O+V+E;
12+15+22+5 = 54%

L+U+C+K ;
12+21+3+11 = 47%

None of them makes 100%.
Then what makes 100% ???
Is it Money?
NO !!! M+O+N+E+Y= 13+15+14+5+25=72%

Leadership?
NO !!! L+E+A+D+E+R+S+H+I+P= 12+5+1+4+5+18+19+8+9+16=97%

Every problem has a solution,
only if we perhaps change our "ATTITUDE".

A+T+T+I+T+U+D+E ;
1+20+20+9+20+21+4+5 = 100%

It is therefore OUR ATTITUDE towards Life and Work that makes
OUR Life 100% Successful..

Amazing mathematics of life!

En tungas fuktiga spår…

 21 December, 2013 by curvycat1234

  

Min tunga lämnar ett tydligt budskap på hennes rygg när jag låter den vandra ned mot hennes skinkor. Lämnar ett spår som inte ljuger. Ger hennes den bekräftelse hon så suktar efter. Det råder inga tvivel. Jag vill ha henne. Hon vet det nu. Jag vill ha henne. Inte bara nu.
Hon har inte vågat. Hon har velat, men inte vågat. Inte litat på det jag har sagt och inte velat se det jag har gjort. För henne. För att få henne. För att ha henne här framför mig. Naken. Sårbar. Så in i helvete vacker.
Det är inte alls hon som är sårbar. Det är jag. Det går som elektriska stötar genom min kropp när min tunga rör hennes hud. När mina händer glider in under hennes bröstkorg och kupar hennes bröst. När jag andas in hennes doft. När jag uppfattar hennes tunga andhämtning. Då hugger det till i mig. Inte bara av lust. En enorm ömhet för henne sjuder inom mig. För kvinnan som har förtrollat mig. Utan att förstå vad hon har gjort har hon försatt allt upp och ned.
Mina händer släpper taget om hennes bröst och vandrar ned mot hennes skinkor. När jag med tungan når början av hennes skåra så drar jag isär hennes skinkor blottar hennes anus och fitta. Hon ligger alldeles still, men när jag låter tungan rita sitt fuktiga spår i hennes skåra så stönar hon och möter min mun med hennes stjärt. Tungan glider nedåt och når hennes fuktiga fittöppning. Istället för att tränga in med tungan så gör jag den platt, öppnar min mun och trycker tungan ned mot hennes klitoris så att jag begraver hela min mun i hennes fitta. Läpparna suger in hennes kött, hittar fram till den svullna klitoris och låter tungan leka samtidigt som mina fingrar tar ett hårt tag om hennes rumpa för att dra henne ännu närmare mig.
Jag särar upp hennes fitta och slickar henne bakifrån. Vill ha henne i min mun. Hela hennes fitta. Vill smaka, röra, slicka, suga. Vill in. Vill penetrera. Vill in i henne. Vill att hon möter min mun genom att pressa sin fitta mot mig. Vill känna henne gunga mot min mun. Höra henne flämta allt högre.
…vill få henne att komma. Stöna rakt ut och viska mitt namn.
Och det gjorde hon. Många gånger. Men sen gick hon tillbaka till honom. Och lämnade mig ensam kvar…
…men min tungas fuktiga spår glänser fortfarande på hennes innersta. Kelar med henne. Smeker henne ömt. Hon vet det bara inte. Men jag vet…