Content Warning : Do you want to continue?
This poem contains content which some readers may find disturbing.
It is unsuitable for children or anyone who is easily offended.
YES
I am over 18 years old, I have been warned and I still want to read this poem.
I am over 18 years old, I have been warned and I still want to read this poem.
NO
I don't want to read this type of content, take me back to the previous page.
I don't want to read this type of content, take me back to the previous page.
deepundergroundpoetry.com
One Thought Leads to Another
She turned around and looked at me from behind her sophisticated, successful artist sunnies and said with a smile, “I’ve been up all night”. I smiled and replied, “Good for you”. On reflection, it was a pretty lame comeback. I should have said something cool like, “I wish I was there”, but I didn’t. I could have said, “You’re a very naughty girl and probably need a good spanking”, but I didn’t. She might have liked that – me saying it and me doing it, just like she may have wanted and needed - the shock and sting of my firm hand slapping loudly on her soft pink arse; the sweet tremor vibrating through her, down and deep to her wet little kitty; my man hand smacking again and again, pawing and grabbing her fleshy cheeks; her squeals and moans of pleasure and pain close together, almost inseparable; nipples hard with raw excitement; all kinds of crazy thoughts running through her wilderness mind; imagining what might come next, my soft paw slipping down to her moist furry mound, rubbing up and down, tracing the pink wet line of unfolding joy; slipping my fingers in one at a time, in then out, paw rubbing more, then in then out, two fingers – more, thumb on her clit, two fingers swirling in, pressing gently on her swell, then out and up and down her fur, catching her pulsing little bulb in the rush; in again but firmer, deeper exploring her lair, finding her hidden lake and listening to the wetness of her pleasure within; then out and her tingling wanting fur, prolonging the tease, spanking her rug and marble friend; and right back in like a dolphin through her foam; she wanting your hurt but not too much, liking it on the border, at the crossroads, those mysterious edges tempting her out (knowingly or not); her searching mind flashing to when she was a girl, the leotards, the tights, the ballet slippers, the mirrors, the boys - their muscles, their bulges, their sweat, how she flew when they lifted her, the tingles as she came down, like waking with smiles from fairy-tale dreams; in cool satin sheets, feeling the wetness, and the kiss of a shiny new day.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1
reading list entries 0
comments 2
reads 1445
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.