What Floats Inside



What Floats Inside


Like smoke in a windowless room

trapped desires come to play mind games,

fantasies dare not show in daylight

but in rooms within she plays despite

her dress seam below bared knees

quietly hiding the flames

burning, burning for illicit dreams

of hard cocks and flesh that screams

for more of the pleasure pain!

But what a sweet smile,

an angel like woman beautifully pure

secretly waiting for night to lure

desires into the open skin

above her knees her dress seam

raised high

burning, burning for flesh that screams

for more of what hides within-







Where will I touch you the first time

if I ever was to meet you?

If desires build trails, we must follow

until the fires are extinguished

or we burn down to embers-

I can almost feel you,

drunk with crimson lips of wine

numbing all my senses

if with a kiss I could swallow

your entire universe

and the universe remembers

how a flicker of light burst into fire-

And how your breasts may feel

under my trembling hands

playful nipples enticing

my mouth to satisfy my wants,

my teeth wanting to bite

and slowly drink the rising

desperation of a moment-

Then let the black lace peel

from around your waist

to expose your moonlike skin

driving me insane with desire,

my mouth creating streams

of honey flowing down

to the river between your legs.

There is where I begin

to find a placed filled with dreams

of heavens,

blissful elixir of life

in your flow I will rise

and find the fountain of youth

where my thirst will drown-

And I will take you,

until galaxies collapse into the light

you have become,

entering every space inside

in a rhythmic dance,

drunk with the feel of skin on skin

on legs spread wide

to receive everything I am,

every dream, every wish

and every want-

So tell me,

where will I touch you the first time

if I ever was to meet you?




“I want to make you weep. I want all your pleasure, Iris, all your pain, everything you are. Come for me.” And she felt herself bow with the stark white bliss of her epiphany, the shattering realization of his words and his hands and his mouth. She was gasping for breath, shaking, lost, unseeing. The center of her being pulsing with pleasure.”

― Elizabeth Hoyt, Duke of Desire

Think of me


Think of me


Think of me for one moment late at night

when his hands under sheets find your wants

to relieve all the heat

and his lips find your skin

while you cry for his love and discrete

with my name briefly sin

for a moment,

if you do think of me-


“You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.”

― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray





Wild little things hiding under skin

waiting to be fed

starving in my loneliness

late at night in bed-

And they claw their way

digging deep within

for my foolish wants,

hungry little things will not go away

wanting to be fed-


“I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin.

I want.”

― Sara Gruen, Water for Elephants

Tell me yours, I will tell you mine


Tell me yours, I will tell you mine

(an alcohol induced fantasy)


Fantasies mix well with Crown Royal

letting go of inhibitions, it feels fine

to watch you across the table enticing

desires driven by our mutual need

leaving love behind-

And I want to let loose and taste

what nature so well designed

on the curves outlining your dress,

to tell you how I could feed

those hidden fires you keep so well

from prying eyes-

Another drink to under-tongue wash away

the sudden thirst your body arise

for deep hard kisses,

for hands to find the tempting sway

of neglected flesh to bring alive

the sleeping nerves under your skin

and create a moment, for there is no sin

to bathe in lust when there is no love

and we both know we want to play-


“Good sex is like good bridge. If you don’t have a good partner, you’d better have a good hand.”

― Mae West

Ghost Story


Ghost Story


I do not believe in ghosts you see

the end to be the end of all we are

if the flesh do not remember once rotten

and dust to dust it turns-

But how wrong to believe all forgotten

when my rhymes followed death

and recalled someone close in a dream.

Someone far in my years, an encounter

of slithering thighs and the steam

left from nights of kisses and sex.

I must confess

she remained in my mind ever since

 and long after gone.

So I wrote about her and the flesh

that my memories bounded

in my words and my rhymes.

It was April and back a few years

when it happened and found

that the night I recall

was a full blood red moon.

Laying down for the night done and tired

only took but a minute to sleep

and  found myself dreaming of her.

Hard I was like a tent pushing up on my sheets

while I kissed and I touched all asleep

in my dream and so real it seemed

almost feeling her breasts in my hand

when she straddle and sat

letting go as I entered her full

and the rocking and pushing so deep

that I felt like I could no more stand

and I screamed loud enough

for my neighbors to hear

when I gushed and I slushed

coming out of my dream

to my own ghoulish horror to find

I was straddle across by a something in white

with red devilish eyes

and she smiled when my fear

froze me right to my bed

while she moved fast and steady

and a voice resonating straight out of hell

she just whispered in my ear

“take me hard from behind”

Now, I can tell you already it is hard to remember

all the events of that night

but I swear I can see her sometimes

with her devilish eyes

so I think of cute puppies and kittens and flowers

at the moment I’m falling asleep

to keep her away from my intimate dreams

for I know that she waits as she touches and moans

for my hardness to straddle

and to jump on my bones-


Just having fun, happy Halloween!

Double Pleasure


Double Pleasure


She lies in between two lovers,

four caressing hands

with heat rising to her wants

a fusion of kisses under the covers.

What a delightful sin to commit

a daring act of pleasure as she submit

to every exquisite desire

fulfilling her fantasy to acquire

two lovers to quench her fire.


“…There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad.” 
― Homer, The Iliad