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Fractures Minds of Lust

"Am I tormenting you? Maybe. Will you claim me? ...."

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2.4k Views 2.4k
377 words 377 words
Competition Entry: Erotic Poetry

The valley of your throat

A kiss, a nip, a prolonged breath.

The trembling of your shoulders,

Your rough rugged groan

Am I torturing you?

Maybe.

 

The hard plains of your shoulders,

Teeth, fingers, breath.

Your muscles rippling as I proceed,

Biting a nipple, feeling you tense.

Am I tormenting you?

Maybe.

 

Thud! Green eyes flashing with lust and a little fury

Smirk softly as my journey continues

Tongue travelling, navel to the athletic V of your pelvis.

Salt and desire on your flesh

Am I teasing you?

Maybe.

 

And there you are proud and tall,

My breath stutters as always.

The whisper of finger tips over your length

The growl of a man on the edge.

Will you break soon?

Maybe.

 

Slip of velvet steel over eager muscular tongue.

The gentle grip of fingers on your thighs.

Eyes closed, your moan encourages.

Deeper, but slow, slow, slow.

Is this what you want?

Maybe.

 

Fingers tighten into curls.

Are you trying to take control?

Maintain pace, smiling around you.

Heat rushing through my body to my forbidden place.

Take it, Darling.

Maybe.

 

Pressing harder, thrusting upwards

Throat expanding, heart racing.

Fingers slipping between my thighs,

Rising wet and glistening.

Do I want you?

Maybe.

 

Your growl a sign of your submission,

Even as you take control.

Laughter turning into moans. Pillows thrown,

Above me on taught arms my legs wrapped over your hips.

Am I nervous?

Maybe.

 

Your green eyes flashing with lust and a little fury.

A response of crystal blue lust filled playfulness

Are you being cheeky?” you ask.

“Just coy” and lift my hips to take you in.

Is this heaven?

Maybe

 

Pressing deep, not hard and rough.

Fingers gripping, urging on

Maintain pace, you smile.

A lurch of fear runs through me

Now it’s my turn is it?

Maybe.

 

Finger slip between my thighs

Your hand stops them, pulls them high.

Clasped above me, cannot move.

Your hips tormenting as you prove,

You’re just as apt at revenge as patience.

 

But in time, our breathing quickens

Pulse rates rocket, lust thickens.

Thrusting frenzied, deep and hard,

Push us forward, no holds barred.

Begging, pleading, kissing, biting.

Warmth, peace, release and wonder.

 

Did I torment you?

Maybe.

Did you claim me?

Yes.

 

 

 

 

Published 
Written by RebeccaCatherine
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