First Kiss

She feels the high seas inside

When a wave crests from her stomach

Up into her solar plexus drowning her lungs

 

As she gasps for air “HuuuH”

That is how badly she wants

She laughs relieved, not dead, not alone

The inhale expands her rib cage

She holds her breath,

Full of air, full of oxygen, full of life, full of full, full of God, full of herself

 

She exhales with a sigh,

With a soft, with a slow, with a song

A song of long longing having had,

A song of hollow haunting having held

A silent wing stroke by her cheek

 

The crested wave again in her stomach

Surfing up through her lungs

Barfing up into their first kiss

 

Lipstick smeared on the wall

Where they fucked

They couldn’t wait

 

She wants breakfast in bed with a blowjob

to be seen, to be touched in her soul

 

Where is your soul? He asks

It’s right here, she says,

He kisses the air where she’s pointing,

Strokes it with his bare hands

 

A tear rolls down her cheek

When she discovers her heart

Buried in the third toe on her right foot.

 

Soft Skinned Furry Animals

The soft skinned furry animals that we are. We are in bed together again after months of not, after exactly one year and eight months of not. We touch and we melt and we blend and we feel and we smell. My senses are afire, lit up. I know you. We’ve been lovers on and off in 3 or 4 rounds. I have lost count and we know, we both deeply know that we do not fit each other in a relationship, we’re too different and we don’t match.

But the chemistry, the pheromones, and the way we come together in our play is astounding. One of life’s great injustices that you can have such mind-blowing chemistry with someone, and yet be so ill suited for each other, a cruel, harsh irony on the part of our creator, the purpose of which escapes me. I feel your breath along my neck as you whisper, “My mistress, I missed you. I thought about kissing your ass, while I was fucking someone else. I never stopped thinking about you. I missed you my mistress.”

“I’m glad you think about me. I’m in you and I will always be in you,” I say. For a long moment I close my eyes and I ask you to love on me and you start immediately stroking my skin, lightly on my neck breathing into my hair and stroking my spine all the way down my back. I enjoy letting you touch me. You start to suckle my breasts and my body responds to your smell, to your touch, to your taste and I find it strangely pleasurable to be reminded of our tempestuous journey.

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Three Licks

A lush jungle, with bird calls, wetness, moisture; rainforest, wild, untamable.

We went to the jungle by boat up the river. We rowed and rowed and rowed; hours, or rather, the porters did. We sat there with our backpack in the middle of the long boats. Continue reading

Message In a Bottle

I sent several of these off when I was a kid.

My dad was a captain, and I spent a lot of time on ships, cruise ships, and I wrote a little note, sealed it and threw it overboard, and lo and behold, months later I received a letter in the mail from an elderly gentleman who had found my bottle, read the message and was kind enough to write me back. Continue reading

Acrobatic Sex

I eat all kinds of crap when I’m in love: juicy fruity stuff, indulge in high-quality chocolate, preferably with my lover. I dine out and I indulge. I probably overeat all the savory, salty, fatty, sweet stuff I usually limit. I linger over the end of dinner with coffee or tea. I linger in bed with a latte and some cut pieces of fruit. I think of food as I think of sex.

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