Foreplay, sex, orgasm.

Write a poem split into three stanzas - foreplay, sex, and orgasm- without using stereotypical 'erotica' words. No fucks, tits, ass, wet, cock, etc I want to see who can manage this using language skills rather than the same old pump-and-dump words.

Rules

* No use of stereotypical erotica poetry words, keep it classy.
* poem must be only 3 stanzas relating to the aforementioned topics
* make it as descriptive as possible
* extra points for use of metaphor
* please title your entries
* no collabs
* new writes only
* one entry per poet
* 2 weeks

Fire My Arrow >


She replies    
sitting in her chair    
licking my rousing words    
begging me to draw her bow    
fingers find the stringline of her spine    
glancing her hair with the back of my palm    
pressing my lips on the side of her neck    
tracing bloodlines with my tongue    
a playful nip and I feel her shudder    
clamping thighs, chest flares with purring breath    
the plunging neckline of her dress like a noose
to hang my gaze      
helpless hands lured into her splendid snare    
stroke back and forth over soft pale suns    
whilst her fingers seek shaven solace between her parted thighs    
dress static to chair as she slides into her cradle palm    
our lips meet like the sun kissing the horizon    
open mouths, playful tongues swimming in our passion
her breasts held like worshipped idols
squeezed until I feel her bleeding desire throbbing in my hands    
my lips retreat as I pull her chair into my groin    
legs dangling as she swings from my chains    
head hangs between my thighs, willing eyes unleashing my belt    
as her fingers spin in a delicate butterfly dance.    
 
 
The chair drops to the floor and she lands on her paws    
prowling between my legs, savaging my meat, my pride on heat    
kissing the bullseye as I guide my bone into her mouth    
deep slow draw, poised against the back her throat    
withdrawn gasp and re-entry with machinegun thrusts  
until she bucks…. breathless    
raised to her feet, table cleared in tsunami lust    
bowed over, dress jacked up, my hand unveils divine beauty    
the bow string, her perfect line    
deliberate, direct, precise, my fingers clenching swollen flesh    
stroking my purring feline, holding her down against the table top    
her chest, crushing planets    
rocking my world with her perfect pressing curves    
her hips move with agitation, four lips embellished with finger tips    
muzzling her pleasing moans and flow… I let her go.    
 
 
Have you ever seen a girl riding her bicycle on the streets of Amsterdam    
with blind lust in her eyes?    
I remember that day    
like a vivid dream    
waiting for her    
to come    
home to me    
the rubber tyres shuddering on the cobblestones    
where soft and hard surfaces make friction    
the pedals driving gears at a feverish pace    
her legs pumping    
like a slave to the machine    
sweat beads from her pores, dripping down her curves    
between her thighs and onto the saddles’s leather hide    
the rush of air feeding the fire that burns deep between her thighs    
her bouncing breasts synchronised dripping flesh    
fingers clench handle grips tight, arms trembling with desire    
to hold me steadfast the second she arrives    
and her smile    
my heart skips a beat to know she rides immersed deep in pleasure    
and when she comes home to me    
bursting through that front door    
three times    
her aura shines    
flooding me in her light    
I know where her arrow strikes.



Written by Alexander Case

Every Intention~


Held against your lips
my thighs
cradled across your smile
kissed deep between parted folds
your sweet tooth fascination
paving its way into my openness
like every sugary delight
I tingle on your taste buds
in rivers of your most
favourite beverage
I shudder with breathless cravings
dripping liquid candy
feeding your addiction
grinding down onto your desperation
and my need to get you deeper
I am weakness in your hands
feeling boneless
as you take me to the edge
and hold me there


lifting me off the hammock
of your support
where I rocked while crying
out for release
you turn me like dreams on a spindle
weave me onto the fabric
of your steel bound intentions
threading me with slow moves
teasing my burning flesh
with intermittent relief
and I beg for you
licking my lips as you plunge
to the hilt of my detonation
my sulfur mix seeping
I am alight
my fire traveling your thrust
moving hard and fast
like thunder pounding my mind
I can feel the vibration
of the growl building in your throat


storms break loose from our
colliding bodies
the explosion hits with intensity
shaking the very foundations
of our connection
trying to hold onto the ride
never wanting it to end
like roller-coasting
through every tidal wave
and lightening strike
I hit climatic euphoria
as you come in mutual bonding
adrenalin spent
we fall together back to earth  

Trial by Ice

I. Seduction

Shopping for shoes,
she drags me in by the shirt
and loads me up
with a dozen pair
to sleek back to the car with
for the next foray.
I hunt her down by smell
and find her lingering wetly
near the neatness
of encumbering charms.
Each time
she stretches her leg
and smoothers her finger,
a gliding of glycerin
atop a glass hip boned slit split skirt
and looks down her transom
as if to tongue a spark
to set and seduce
an armed force of gladiators.

II. Putting on the Slits

Her macaroon heels
buried deep into my back
she holds my head
as she works each new show case
into a favored position.
Is this the right pose,
spike sharded shaft shattering structure
as her work lays open
my mouth and a gash?
She catches my axis
and spins on a dime,
giving Abraxas
a thing on his mind.
Numbers are calling
not seventy yet,
it's all in a falling
and rolling roulette.

III.  Pay Dirt

She slips off her slipper
and slips it inside,
would that the toe tip
had more to hide,
pounding and jugular,
and ramming rim tight
she grabs up
the spindle
and spins it up right.
Juncture and madness
and strutting enough
stallion and catwalk
extension and puff
gladness and glamour
hot heated machine
the Girl, in stilettos,
is nothing but mean.

runningturtle87

Mr case - alas the poem needs to be 3 stanzas to qualify. It also uses stereotypical erotica words which also doesn't adhere to the requirements.

Thank you also running turtle and magda :)

SATIN DELIGHT

Emerged from the cord
A tingling vibration of sorts
She watches the brow
Of his dark eyes
She watches the curl
Of his lips
Magnetism motions
As arms lock tight
As the water is set adrift
Long aftertaste of scents
That drown all the senses
And melt in touches
And speaks
Tongue
To tongue

Lust
Swims free
From its surface
From my skin is born
The fruit of spring
Ripe of its riches
Thus is the longing
Awoken between us
Ointment salves through
Spiraling downwards
Over my spine
Perfumed fire
Clutching over satin sheets

Surface of silence
Echo of sound
From the deep
From the wild
From the flesh
Sprouts a fountain
Energetic symphony
Moistened flower bed
Dampened holy earth
Filled the cauldron
I escape into you
Vibrant, we are
Locked, tight
I surrender
To the stream
Of need
From it
I feed

Very well done! Your words built up with intensity came to a crescendo and settle down. Loved it

The Rose Garden

I'm a flower in his garden.
He the green thumb.
Words so tender along my petals,
Enclosed tightly from him.
As we like to tease-
A rose cannot bloom,
Without absolute trust.

I am so embarrassed that I glow pink,
Before I must bloom to red.
His hands so large with gentle fingers,
Take away my thorns.
He does not yank, he gentle takes,
What he feels does not belong
All the while,
Encouraging me to grow.

My most vulnerable side,
I've finally presented him,
His hands are never harsh, but firm,
And gentle hold me as the day I came.
The look in his eyes,
The sparkle of his voice,
As I present this gift.
I am a beauty he assures, always was.

Miss_Sub said:Mr case - alas the poem needs to be 3 stanzas to qualify. It also uses stereotypical erotica words which also doesn't adhere to the requirements.

No worries Missy, I knew I'd be pushing it. The idea was there before the comp started, but didn't want to compromise the creative flow. Thanks anyway for the idea to filter the filth, I've ended up with a better poem for it.

Cheers
Mr Case

  The sensual garden

We fell into the blissful garden
tracing trails, edging the path
overlying hedges cleared away
the air blew sticky sweet
as a bird opens her wings
whispering nature, lovely doves, flowers in spring


A grown oak climbs between petals
reaching for bliss, touching sky
Wild flower petals swell
as mist kisses trickle within
Succulent sounds signal softened secure sacrament
wild beasts tangle and clash breathing  Eden


Storms build, Thunder roars and rumbles
thickened air is split asunder
as cracks streak over
Waves pulse in quaking ferocity
streams overflowing gush floods the plain
the garden covers,hidden bliss resting peacefully

Foreplay and orgasm are all part of having sex. What's in between foreplay and orgasm, is it climax? Just want to clarify...

It's all part of your own interpretation, not mine. Further to that thought, if you think there's nothing between foreplay and orgasm you need to have better sex, man

Whispers

Insatiably
tongues revel behind the lips
as they search for acceptance
soon finding the ear,and neck
mixed with the residual breath
it's like warm ghostly whispers
inducing bite-lip,eye-roll

Entwined
our bodies writhe in tempo
gliding lusts dew
broken words
a melody of fleeting octaves
all coerced,like giggles
from a boisterous tickle

Simultaneously
our desires crest
enveloped by quiver
we erupt in coital bliss
I collapse along side
running fingers through your hair
as you unwind to whispers
of how amazing you felt

Throned

She always gives his morning rise purpose.
Today was no different.
As his fingers stroke her smoothness,
She caresses his throne.
Their eyes speak of love.
Tender lips he seeks.
His hand searches for treasure
As she bows in awe of his strong, firm head.  
Mouth wide open to capture some of his virility.
With a little releasing down the contours of her chin.

Hardened member now ready to find
a new home
With his dome now primed.
A slow glide in
She begins riding
Sitting on his throne was her favourite sunrise treat.
Slow rhythms
Back and forth
Then faster
With a circular approach.
Proving her devotion
With emotion
Worshipping his kingdom.

Clenching the sheets
And a satisfied arched pose
As she is giving.
Now he knows
It's his time to release his appreciation.
Hips lifted,
With a stiffened frame
As he enters deeper into her domain.
A song well justified
Squeezing her voluptuousness
As his royal essence is captured and absorbed.