Saturday, November 21, 2009

He's Butta...a work of fiction (Originally posted 3-13-06)

Butta' skin

Soup coola' lips

Your green cat eyes chart visual trails from my lips to my hips

Your fingertips slow drag from the base of my throat to the curve of my shoulders, slowly removing my blouse from over my slim frame

The same hands that evoke passionate tunes from the ebony/ivory keys are about to bring this brown fox to her knees

I can't wait for you to please me with that quick pink tongue

Moist soft dampness on my neck got me feeling sprung from my abstinence trap

You have wrung from my body all manner of hot wetness

In a thousand years I still won't be able to forget this

I'll still want to relive this...over and over and over...

Lest I explode from the sweet agony of anticipation please please appease me with your romancipation

I want our clothes removed fast but slow to the glow of the candles illuminating your room

John Coltrane's tempo makes me swoon as you lick my skin

Just dive on in and swim in me

Consume me, get drunk off me...straight inebriated

Let me taste it...I don't believe in wasting it

My sweetness made sweeter still with your added flavor

I want to savor every moan, every touch from you

I don't know how much I can take from you

But I want you to fill me to overflowing

Sowing your seed to the deepest reaches of my being

Your love loving me so good I think I'm seeing double

Damn I'm in trouble

I never figured you'd put it on me like this, whispering nasty words in my ear as you strum me like your guitar

By far, you are enough for me

Got me singing sweetly like your alto sax while you drip hot wax on my curves

I like how you swerve all up and through my honey places

Both of us making those pre-orgasmic faces as we try to pace ourselves

I run and you give chase, kissing trails of your sugar down my face to the valley where my navel awaits

But wait, no baby, I need you inside me once more

Explore all my deep coves, don't stop until you find my treasure trove

Unlock me,  set free the nasty little demon in me

Fuck me harder but slow

I want to know that you can handle it

Shit, I can't handle it






That was a keystyle. It was inspired by someone I know, someone I had a several hours long conversation with last night. We didn't talk about sex or anything provocative, no, nothing like that. It was the cadence of his voice.....but mostly me needing to be stroked. I was feeling sexy as we spoke. The room was dark. It was quiet, all except for our voices vollying the conversation. I'm sure he had no idea that I was undressing him in my mind. Tongue bathing him as we laughed about Dave Chapelle's antics. Imagining his lips leaving trails of hot spots from my neck to my calf and back up again. I had to lock my thighs together to try and calm the throbbing in my nether regions. Goddamn it. I'm hornier than a moat full of mutated toads. I am just dying for a good ramming. But I've sworn off sex. No more sex until "he" arrives. I am a prisoner of my own flesh. Tortured daily by my insatiable libido. Just looking at a man's crotch is enough to get me dripping and ready. *Sigh*

C'est la vie


Anonymous said...

It is certainly interesting for me to read the blog. Thank author for it. I like such topics and anything that is connected to this matter. I definitely want to read a bit more on that blog soon.

Soul Of Copper said...

Well...self-explanatory there lol! Sometimes you have to deal with a vision that is so intense, you cannot conrtol even your own creative dreams and thoughts. It bes like that sometimes. TRUST and believe. Furthermore, I like how this poem flowed. Only wondered if you flowed like...nahhhh lol