What’s your FETISH?

What’s your FETISH?

Write about your sexual fetish.  That one strange thing that turns you on, that not even you can understand.  How do you deal with it?  Do you embrace it?  Do you repress it?  Are you proud of it, or are you ashamed of it?   Most important, how do you express it?  

Open up your soul, and express your inner most thoughts. You’re poets, this is what you’re supposed to do.

Competition will be judged by my St, Paul/Minneapolis poetry group's friends.  Please, no commenting on the thread till the winners are announced.

Sweet seventeen
A true taste of romance
First kiss
Turned into an all night long
Make-out session
Passionate
Hot
Wet kisses and wandering hands
Night after night
Steaming up his car
Reclining the seats
So we could lie down
Pretending we're grown ups.
Talks of other firsts
And desires.
I didn't know much about sex
Neither did he.
But I remember telling him
How I thought it'd be fun
To make love on
A water bed.
Or at sea.
We broke up before
We got to third base
And my fantasy never
Became a reality.
Not yet, anyway.

Ladies,
do you know that your pee hole's not tiny
and can take quite a sizeable chunk
of whatever you choose to put there,
though be careful whatever you dunk?

An acquired taste, that's for certain,
but this poem just might make you think
there's more ways of getting your rocks off.
Not that I'd know this of course ....... cheeky wink!

There are no sexy whispers,
No need for seductive caress, access my soft inner elbow with nibbles n nips, I become someone you'd never take home to mamma....ummhhm...

quick q:
does it have to be a fetish
or can it be a paraphilia?

Yes my Gorean beauty.

apadravya worship ~ {vii} // fetish v1.0

{v} genesis // [anonymous encounters]:
i gloried in your flesh, you {like a forgotten pagan
god}
who reveled in his depravity, a hedonist
unrepentant ...
more animal than man
... {&} for a moment, i could out run the world while my stilettos
pressed conflicting emotions into the small of your back

{iv} kali // [menophilia] :
you spread me open
{like a holy book}
drank from the vile place
where i oozed
the filthiest shades of red
like a biblical river ~
... fed my shame to me
from your fingertips
while your
tongue wrote prayers
at the altar of
my sexual dysfunction ...
*

{iii} penance // [erotic humiliation]:

all the things i am not
fall from your tongue
with the ease of my
unintelligible begging

{ii} catharsis // [masochism]:

questions lurked behind your eyes & you hit me.
an open handed slap.
a warmth that spread in a stinging blush from lash to the lines
of your fingers
where they curled around my throat & squeezed self-loathing
from my lungs.
you lay upon my skin in prints & punches that purpled
to black,
darker than my darkest places.
i confessed.
breathlessly.

{i} Ggod // [acrotomophilia]:

it started with you, brother mine... you, the vodka & a knife
so sharp
it cut away my shame

Not a question you put to your girlfriend,
after a few slaps and weird looks,
I learnt this in the end.
I thought our sexual activity was open minded and free,
but seems in the end she wouldn't satisfy me.

"You're perverted and sick!"
"Why you want a rubber dick shoved up your ass?"
Putting it like that, it does sound perverse,
but the plessure it can bring is overwhelming.
Having my prostate stimulated by a woman with a strap-on,
while she brings me to climax with masturbation.
I will please and love her in anyway,
but she wont act out my deepest fantacy.
So we stick to the usual missionary,
while I go unsatified,
my sexual desires always denied.

Noneya B.

Nylon stockinged legs
Invisible obstruction
A breath of nothing

The feel of her silky hair,
the touch of sweaty skin,
the moans of her deep pleasure,
while i'm buried within her.

DEEP THROAT

A most tasty dish
sans soup of the day

no vegans invited
they'd get in the way

you won't want to share
and neither will I

a handful of you
and boy I won't lie.

I love...

deep throat'd kisses
and slow motion dancing,

the soft warm embraces
of sleep-in romancing,

bed clothes kicked off
and shades pulled down low

from one who would covet
a glance at my lover

who's full moon is rising
I just now discover.

VIVE LA DIFFÉRENCE
(an un-nursery rhyme)

Since I was just a little boy
And knew that girls were not
The difference compels me so
Well… certainly one spot.

A challenge finding how things work
For boys are simple there
With all our flowings openly
Easy to see from where.

But girls seem to generate
From hidden caverns deep
With one that squirts in forceful stream
And one in myst’ries seep

I love the look and taste of both
For fluids are my thing
Of pee, and blood and milky flow
I’ll take all she can bring

Like popcorn, ir’n, and salty-sweet
Her tastes ingratiate
To live my life between her thighs
I would not hesitate.

There’s one more thing I should confess
From mouth or down below
I love my fluid’s taste as well
Alone or with her flow

So give me all you have to give
Can’t wait to drain your all
Or spit me back into my mouth
I long for each snowball

So now you have my fetish tale
I hope it satisfies
As does the spray or drip or gush
When girlish flows baptize

Author's Note: the pronoun/person shift is intentional...

Apolaustic: (PEOPLE PLEASER)
Everyone seeks companionship; every one wants to feel wanted, needed. What I do is a public service. In these few moments that I spend with these johns it is not just about the sex it is more than just a business transaction or just a job, it is the intimate connection between a man in a woman that they lack in their lives. To feel the affection from another human being that won’t judge them, that will accept them just as they are regardless of any circumstance, physical or mental deformity or disability, insecurity, social or economic status. Without having to convince the counterpart why they are the best candidate or why they deserve or are worthy of such affection. Someone to just hold them and let them know everything is going to be okay. Every man deserves to be treated like a king to be told you are intelligent, strong, powerful, handsome, and extraordinary. In these few moments I am the woman of their dreams, I am the most beautiful woman they’d ever laid eyes on, I am everything they could ever want or need. Without them I would have no significance or purpose. They give me confidence, a sense of self worth, something to look forward to. As humans without anything to strive for we slowly self-destruct. I am making people happy. Which is all I ever wanted to do. Giving up my soul is a very small price to pay. In fact it is a privilege because they temporarily filled the void inside of me that had been missing for so long and they didn’t have to choose me. I am grateful. Blessed even to be chosen for such a position. I will prove it in every appointment that I have.

I am saving lives. I am that great mountain keeping countless of men from raping and molesting women and children out of sexual desperation. I am someone’s hero if not my own I made myself significant. Though I don't love myself at the moment I love what I do for people. Most of the men that see are socially awkward don't know the first thing about how to approach a woman, don't have the self confidence to attempt to engage in a stable relationship some were 40 year old virgins that never have or high school boys that could never get the girl. A couple of men just too busy to maintain a relationship or fresh out of jail struggling with their sexuality and just want to feel like a man again. I’ve had widowers, sex offenders shunned by society whose past had ruined any chance they had at ever being with a real woman again. Men whom come from an old-fashioned house hold whose wives were permitted to engage in such sexual act because it was considered disrespectful or because of their religious beliefs. I’ve had clients from all different walks of life. I had finally gotten the approval that my family never gave me and my “friends” never showed me. And if that meant sacrificing my body, and my life for that I was okay with being an object of lasciviousness. If my father ever taught me anything it was that if I was going to do something whatever it was to be the best at it and I am. I am the best most loyal genuine kind hearted polite respectful prostitute there was and for it I am highly favored I don't have the best clientele but I make damn sure I am remembered and they always come back. It is the only thing I have going for me at the moment and Ive developed intimate and romantic relationships with ever being I sleep with as if they are my own husbands or boyfriends. I provide the same love I would want for my brothers and my own father.

QUEEN BEE   ! Extreme Content !
(As I as Domme reminisce with my male submissive about our fetish fixations)

You speak intensely, yearningly to me,
Your passion to crawl up inside of me,
To grow within the wanton womb of me,
And clone yourself for every hole in me.

I liken it to living in a hive,
Not me of course, but you as worker, strive
And with distorted body your queen, thrive
While larvae young, in honeycomb, alive.

You want to be my menstrual cycle phase,
To drink it down, the spume for when we bathe,
Mixed in with amber essences we save,
And share between the rhythm of our crave.

With fetishes, we welcome every kind,
In nightly marathons to seek and find.

At toilet when we set a dinner date
And dress for the occasion's formal pate,
To place beneath my puckering a plate,
With flatwear serving morsels that you ate.

And then, the darker spectrum when we fuck,
Each one more twisted as we bite and suck.
The taboo acts of insert, swell and tuck
Will always have us betting on our luck.

Like exhibitionism to the hilt,
Another form of sex play without guilt.
In public spectacle they watch and tilt
To speculate how our sex life is built.

There never seems an ending to our want
When darkest pleasures' deepest places haunt.