Saturday, January 20, 2007


Who says there needs to be an order, a recipe for play? Would teasing your fingers slowly, caressing each one be less enjoyable if it came after I had run my fingers along your thigh?

Imagine not knowing what to expect, being free from the belief you know, and being able to simply experience pleasure and excitement.

"Leave your assumptions at the door" I whisper, my lips brushing against your ear as your remember. Not a new idea after this night, but perhaps before it. This evening so far had been unusual for you, an adventure you were excited to continue even if it did not fit your expectations. Your plan had been to go for dinner, stop at the restaurant's lounge, ask a women to join you, she would agree in the usual indirect way women usually do, casual conversation would following with the hope of sparks, then offer to take her home, a kiss at the door step and maybe an invite inside. That was an evening out, or so you thought. Instead your evening had gone down a different path, if you could even call it a path for there appeared no linear order to the sequence of events, yet you had travelled and in that exploration changed your outlook...even if only for the night till the morning brought back assumptions of order again.

The restaurant was one you had been to before, so the setting was familiar, reinforcing your expectations of the usual path for such an location. You check your reservation, then walked to the bar, finding a seat. Glacing around you notice a woman, a prospective companion for the night. You smile, she smile back, right on schedule. A casual comment, a switching of seats, and you are next to her. You begin to flirt a bit, just enough to see she is open to such advances. Causal conversation occurs next, but soon becomes more interesting as talk of what influences who one is grows out of simple comments. Talk of assumptions follows, not fitting your own assumptions of the usual order of topics. Assumptions about people, about oneself, about the very order the conversation challenged. You are flirting more, the usual series of touches, looks and comments. Then she touches you, not in the way most women would, but in a sensuous play along your fingers. As your thoughts engage her's and your mind explores with her, her and your fingers dance, caress and explore each other's. Far more powerful in their arousal than you would have expected from such an area, add to the desire building from the words spoken and those only hinted at. Hands parting, your nearer hand finds her thigh, trying your usual play. Hers travels up your arm and neck. Discussing order and your assumptions about playing, not the conversation you expected or have had, her fingers caress your thigh, close to what you desire her to touch. Most people she says assume that if one's hand is where her hand is the hand would move upwards, her fingers do nearly touching you, but she says one can start in the same place and explore in a different direction, caressing down to your knee in demonstration. Her fingers return to yours, dancing with them as you talk. Surreal, and in a place filled with people you explore with words and fingers how expectations, including those about order and people, are ideas not necessarily reality. Boxes are not meant to fit people in, and expectations could blind you from seeing opportunities.

Even in the public location your shiver with pleasure as she teases you; with no order to her play you expectations are tossed to the side no longer needed. Your finger tease her clit through her clothes as you kiss her cheek. Breathing in the scent of her skin as he does yours. Quick or long and slow play intermixed with conversation, and interruptions from the world. You know what you want, especially as her teasing and your own hand bring you near climax restrained only by the location and potential mess. She cums, her fingers one yours as you press against her clit. Such pleasure, revealed in eyes and slow whispers to each other, mostly hidden from nearby others by circumstance and careful concealing.

Plans are made for later, discussion about locations. Your mind wandering off to dream about possibilities, only to be asked if the play was ordered upon your return to reality. It was. You has listened and discussed but not truely applied the lesson to even your dreams. Perhaps more discussion is needed.

Lips never meeting you push other boundaries, stepping out of the expected order to dance a new dance of your own combined creation. Time in the restaurant has ended, decision made not to say goodbye or simply fade away now. Exiting the place, pausing to grab a early breakfast, talking again of casual and playful ideas in the free intermixing of our closeness. Plans made to go somewhere nearby, directions obtained, excitement builiding of the possibilities with an open mind to what the sequence would be. Casual appearance to the world, heated desire within, surreal moment in time. Comfortable casualness as we approach the room, entering it, taking a moment to refresh and gather ourselves, knowing there is no need for expectations or meeting of such things. Falling into each others arms, passionate exploration, pause for hands to play, pulling off of clothes, great desire to go back to the order with is known ending, returning to the moment and leaving expectations, fingers exploring own bodies as you both watch, touching as you lay near each other, pleasure and desire burning in eyes and skin. Words moaned, whispered, spoken in encouragement, and play. Urgency building as it had earlier, calling for release, pausing to tease some more, then words spoken encouraging our mutual release as your fingers, invited to, wrap over hers. Feeling her wetness and heat, as you cum hard, and she responds in equal release. Facing each other as you both lay, watching, enjoying sharing the peaks of pleasure. Talking, teasing, a moment of simply looking, holding each other in your mind and eyes, then she dresses and you hold close one more time before saying goodbye, if only for the present...

Perhaps now you would consider leaving order to accounting, and enjoy life and pleasure in whatever direction it leads you in.

Sunday, November 19, 2006


What I want is time…

To spend starring into your eyes,
Merging our souls together

To talk of life, of who we are
Sharing our inner selves

To touch, skin against skin
A simple act, amazing pleasure

To ease away your worries,
As well as mine

To walk together, side by side
Our footsteps etched in the ground

To watch the emotions
In your face, in your eyes

To explore slowly,
With thoughts, with words, with acts

To feel you close,
Enough to melt into you

To hold you near,
With light caresses or firm pressure

To breathe you in,
Your scent that is intrinsically you

To experience your pulse,
Racing against my own

To see your face,
As you give in and find release

But most of all…
To not be interrupted or pulled away,
But to simply be…with you

Saturday, October 14, 2006

I'm Curious...

What message would your eyes send
when they first meet mine?

How would it feel to wrap my arms around you
in greeting of friendship, spark with more?

Where would our conversations take us,
communicated by eyes, words, and thoughts?

Who would move first,
or would we both move together?

Which place would I touch first
and which place would you?

How would you feel pressed against me
with the electric current running through our touching bodies?

Where would my lips first brush,
across your lips, your jaw, your neck?

How would you taste,
when my tongue flicks over your skin?

Who would undo the first button,
pull off the first shirt, run fingers on uncovered skin?

What would you look like,
Standing naked in front of my bare body?

Where would my eyes travel
as they drink in the sight of you?

How quickly would we explore,
hurried frenzy of need or slow delight?

When would you reach your peak,
And how soon would I follow you to climax?

What would you look like as you cum
sound like, smell like during and after?

What would you be like
laying with me in blissful pleasure?

Saturday, September 23, 2006


We lay here.
The warmth of the blankets surrounding us,
the heat of our skin burning deep

The day calls unrelentingly
for us to rise and go about our day
but before we do there's breakfast

We prepare and cook our first meal
the occassional glance and touch
reminding us of the morning's play

I am wearing your shirt,
my legs bare to your eyes
the collar loose enough to tempt

More than once I catch you
yours eyes following the hem of the shirt
your fingers wanting to pull it upwards

As I move about and reach for items
the shirt slips up a bit
revealing the base of my lower curves

Leaning to reach down to pick up a fallen fork
the colloar hangs low
providing you with a quick chance

Dressed, barely, in boxers
your interest is evident
even without your hinting eyes

A morning dance
of two lovers
and the aftershocks of play

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Not him and her, but him and him (mm) ~ Part 2

Resting but never still
Fingers trace the patterns
Of a knowing playmate

Stirring deep passion
Thought to already been released
Yet still remaining within

Skin slowly rubbing
As each moves
In their re-exploration

Fingers slide down long backs
Wrapping around firm cheeks
Pressing the other closer

Their shafts rub slowly
Growing with the desire
And ever increasing need

Cheeks part in knowing hands
Fingers travel lower
Along the center line

The first brush of fingertip
And the first bit of pressure
Sending sparks throughout

Disappearing for a moment
Returning wet and cool with lube
The finger rubs in circles

Ever growing
The need, the pressure
The openness he feels

Hips thrusting slowly
Alternating between rubbing cocks
And pressing fingers

Finger sliding in
Welcomed by the openness
As moans describe its entry

Endless dance of desire
Wanting more, given more
Passion rising every moment

Lips and tongue grow more urgent
As hips proclaim their needs
And fingers do not become enough

Bodies press together,
Parting to change position
A momentary sense of loss

Then the sense of being found
Desire and moans guide him in
Hips pressing back in eagerness

Till bodies merge,
Rhythmic thrusting of hips
Hands, with purpose, wrap around

Fingers encircling a hard cock
Stroking, matching the rhythm
Of the pounding desire

Thoughts fill with need
Bodies with pleasure,
Desire driving harder

Then all is forgotten,
there is only pleasure
And the echoing of moans

As two lovers cum,
One deep within,
the other covering their bodies

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Not him and her, but him and him (mm)

Not him and her,
But him and him
Embracing in pleasure

Hands exploring,
Over the other’s
Firm uncurved body

Fingertips and long fingers
Gripping shoulders and hair
As lips meet passionately

Tongues slipping out
Between hungry lips
Delving in to explore

Firmness pressed to firmness
Hips grinding slowly
Need pounding through veins

Clothes push off
And tossed aside
As each hunger for the other

Male bodies bare
Wrapped purely in passion
And his lover’s embrace

Hands wrap around
The rubbing aching shafts
Bring them closer

Heads slick with precum
Press and tease each other
Between heated bodies

Stroking one another,
And stroking both
Hand draw climax near

Pounding pulses,
Echoing ragged breathes
And deep moans

Each rub, each kiss
Fueling the scorching fire
Uniting their bodies

The climax explodes
From deep within
Pushing the other further

Pulsing through hard shafts
So close together they feel as one
The double release, the double pleasure

...To be such passionate play ought to be ;

Thursday, September 07, 2006

The Window response

(In response to Jet Hanger September 3rd post The Window)

As I lay in bed,
sheets pushed aside
curtains open to the moonlight
and to you watching

My fingers trace in smooth pursuit
of where my mind wanders
Urged on by the desire pounding
through my mind and veins.

Hands tracing soft bare skin
etching paths of burning fire
deep within my being
surrounding me in pleasure.

Desire parries with present pleasure
jousting for my hand's control
wanting more, wanting this
my pleasure ever growing

Fingers travel further
carving a path lower
finding my body's heated focus
and deep wet need

Heartbeat racing,
mind a blur,
breathing ragged
as I reach for what I want most

My eyes find yours
before closing as desire erupts
tossing all from my mind
as my pleasure overflows


Hard consonants surrounding a hard vowel
A word not designed for soft pillow-talk
A sound meant to be uttered through gritted teeth,
At the height of pounding frustrating desire

Soft, flowing sounds
Created to murmur in a lover’s ear
As their hands explore lower,
And the lips tease an earlobe

The word evokes imagery and sensation
Of encompassing warmth and softness
Of a welcoming place to fall into,
To explore slowly and lovingly

What other words are there?
Which imagery to they draw to mind?
When would a lover speak them?
How would they be breathed?