Tag: love

Let’s try be serious this week and see how it goes. > Monday.

More serious poems becauise I’m just that kinda guy. No I am really. Honest. Look at my rhyming n stuff.

Mouth full of lies and the soft sigh of thighs,

oblivious he swims in waters deep.

And entangled dragged low by her strong undertow

full red lips, creamy skin, whispered promises keep.

And so blinded, and chided and ever reminded

how she bends to her will and devours

very easy succumbs to the beat of her drums

and he withers with autumnal flowers

and so belly fat, filled, he’s a slave to her will

appetite, ravenous, quenched

too late rails, cold and frail, and her darkness prevails

on the shoreline cold lifeless and drenched

 

 

 

Let’s try be serious this week and see how it goes. > Sunday

How about a poem to start. A poem can be a frightfully serious thing.

Through golden shards I see her one last time

Summer’s fading light reflected

and slow she turns away.

And ever since each moment tight in chains I’m bound.

Such cruel memories remind me often,

of things that I gladly a king’s ransom would pay,

and to forget.

And then, with sun on my face I look to her and at last,

as love lost fades into bliss I rest.

 

Beyond the night sky

In space nobody can hear your thrumbus go sploosh…

I wrote a bunch of prompts you can read about the process here.  This is my response to one of them.

Gentrax wiped his brow as she entered the room.  There was a look in her eye and a sway in her gait that told him that it was time.  She was ready.  As she crossed the floor towards him he gulped and stared and watched with a hunger at the way Dorenta’s thrumbus pulsated with vivid green’s and blue’s.

Tonight would be the night that their clanbond would finally be fulfilled and he would take his rightful place in the glorious caves of the forefathers .

Standing before him she spread wide her trill and licked her lips.  The moonlight flooding into the room through the opening high in the cave ceiling made her scales flash irredescent.  “Present yourself” she said with an intensity in her eyes that left him breathless.

Gentrax stood from where he lay on the mat of rushes that he had spent the afternoon preparing.  His chest rose and fell and his skellit rattled, warm and moist, and she circled him drawing a clawed talon across his splintle.  He bit his lip as pleasure flooded through his body.

“Are you my betrothed?” she asked standing so close that he could almost taste her.

He answered as taught by the shamen.  “I am your betrothed and my body is yours.”

Gentrax smiled as she cupped his floosh, gently at first, and then squeezed until he winced.

“Impressive” she said as her thrumbus turned a dark crimson.

She was pleased , Gentrax told himself,  and if she was pleased then surely he would prove worthy.  She released him and then pulled him into her forcefully.  Her body hypnotic as she moved, as if to the very rhythm of the passage of time itself.  The curves of her body brushed against him and his tongue snaked from between his lips hungry for the taste of her.

“I am yours” he hissed as she lay on the rush bed and becloned form him to join her.

His skellit was already in full bloom, the lips pink and full.  She presented her trill, it’s small sharp teeth glistening in the moon light.  “Lie with me” she demanded.

Gentrax prostrated himself next to her and felt the weight of her against his back.  Pleasure coursed through his body as his floosh opened wide and its musky aroma filled the cave.

“You are ripe indeed” she said as she took his skellit deep inside her.  He felt the small teeth grip him tight and the mox of pain and pleasure left him breathless.  Her talons dug into his shoulders and he cried out as he felt her trill sever his skellit.

“Sweet delight” he mumbled as she rose up over him, her thrumbus now inky black as the night sky.   Talons pushed further into him and he began to bleed, the thick green life blood seeping through the reeds and onto the dusty cave floor.

“You are my betrothed” she roared as his eyes widened and his floosh exploded from between the spines on his back, his precious life giving nectar pooling between his scales for her to devour.

She licked her lips and leanign forward hungrily consumed it before again leanign over him, her mouth next to his ear.

“You have served me well my love” she said, her voice low and little more than a whisper.   Her jaw widened and her eyes rolled back into her head as he smiled knowing that he had proven worthy.

As she removed his head he rejoiced as he knew his race was run and tonight he would join the forefathers.

 

 

The Last Summer

As summer’s end draws near my thoughts turn once more to you. 

I wrote a bunch of prompts you can read about the process here.  This is my response to one of them.

As summer’s end draws near my thoughts turn once more to you.  Though my memories fade into sepia tones you remain as vibrant as the day I first laid eyes on you.  So full of life you sparkled like the stars and oh how I recall that first time I saw you and just being in the same room as you simply took my breath away.

I remember your smile, and oh god the way you smelled.  Vanilla and violets, you left me heady and desperate for more of you.  Something.  Anything.  Intense and raw and without constraint we lived and  loved I swear even now were you here my heart would near burst at the sight of you.  No matter how many summers pass into autumn I remember you so very clearly still.

When all else has faded to grey I know I will still have you, and our sweetest of moments will linger, and I will close my eyes and see you lying beside me, the morning sun on your pale skin as you sleep.

Time steals such precious moments as thrill our hearts today and I hold evermore tight as all else slips from my grasp.  The way you move and the sweetness of you voice.  Even more sweet embrace after such longing when apart.

All these things are treasures beyond compare and bring such joy, though sadness often lingers close behind.  Green to gold the seasons turn and as I sit looking out I see the tree, old and gnarled and bark scarred as deep as my soul.  The place where you sat so many lazy crazy days.

The place where you now rest.

A symbol of my obsession, of my regret, and where hidden you lie alone in cold, hard ground.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mmmmmilky

The post that is not a post.

M has served up another delicious portion of prompts for January over here.  This is in response to: “Milky white peaks charmed their senses..”

Okay so I started this but stopped because mostly it just made me sound like a perverted 15 year old.

I figured milky white peaks would be a fantastic name for a cowgirl you know, red shequed shirt with a white frill across the front, snug jeans and perhaps some rhinestone boots.  She was going to have an ample busom and there would be campfires and horse wrangling and baked beans eaten from a frying pan and oh the tales they would tell of her milky white peaks.

Then I realised that I was just thinking about Dolly Parton and it just felt wrong to write about her millky white peaks because she is like 72 and that is older than my mum and I don’t really want to think of either in any sort of…well just no.

Not that I would think of my mum like that.  or Dolly.  Good god what is wrong with you people.  It was just an age thing…

Anyway…I’ll try again tomorrow and hopefully this whole sordid episode will be behind me by then and I will feel a little less uncomfortable with myself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happens to us all right?

Of love and lust and gettign a little bit splooshy

M has served up another delicious portion of prompts for January over here.  This is in response to: “Every inch of his body sensed her presence.”

 

There’d been flirting and longing and deep admiration

he found her enticing, with much admiration

he craved her since day one and felt such frustration

her dark eyes, soft skin, sweet disposition

 

How he wondered if ever they might be united

a deep hunger he felt, he so often delighted

in sweet flights of fancy his passions ignited

to be with her his greatest ambition

 

‘Cross the room he did see her and loins burned with fire

watched her play with her hair felt consumed with desire

caught her eye, and she smiled and he melted entire

how he craved her, his secret admission

 

And quite sudeen she’s there and she smiles, says hello

introduces herself and it so seems to throw

him quite sideways, she laughs says she really must go

“let’s swop numbers’ her sweet proposition

 

One thing leads to another as things tend to do

text turns to call turns to date and then two

and he knows she’s the one he wants nobody new

time to kiss ‘spite nervous disposition

 

In the dark of the cinema quirms in his seat

every inch of his body felt presence most sweet

turns to face her she sees him her lips his then greet

warm soft bounty his sweet acquisition

 

Head and heart swell in her gorgeous embrace

and his body reacts and his pulse quickens pace

and then Sploosh he explodes quite all over the place

cannon-esque, with hot white ammunition

 

“Oh my word” she exclaims as his face twists in pleasure

and his trousers run thick with his thick baby treasure

and he splutters and coughs one last time for good measure

says he’s sorry with heartfelt contrition

 

So the moral it seems is to try take it easy

or your trouser will end up quite sticky and greasy

and all thoughts of sweet love be they ever so cheesy

will be spent with pre-mature condition

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Butterfly

She watches him.

Fists clenched and a mouth filled with silent rage.

Scars long healed ache as he thunders, heart black as ink

boney finger point and stinging lies spew from his mouth

with rancid spite and bile.

 

Flowers long dead cast shadows at the grave of a love long departed.

Another day

another fight

another fist into soft warm flesh.

 

Words vile and dark fall on deaf ears,

and where once they cast wounds deep now

she simply turns and smiles

closing the door one last time.

 

 

 

Captivating confines – Room 101

Just a wee something…

This is in response to M’s fabulous prompts which you can see here.  These used to be 101 words.  Sometimes they still are.  Sometimes not.  They are often snippets, occasionally unfinished and sometimes simply the beginnings of something for another time.  I think for the rest of the month I will do really simple poems…maybe.

 

Soft to the touch plush velvet thick

he wakes, smooth on his face

and all alone heart races quick

and darkness fills the place

He calls but muffled is his voice

And nothing stirs without

In confines tight he strains to move

They cannot hear him shout

Red bleeding nails they scratch and claw

His voice calls loud as thunder

Alone beneath the earth he lies

Just roughly six feet under

 

https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2018/11/01/november-writing-prompts/

 

Lipstick Lover – Room 101

Why not eh…

This is in response to M’s fabulous prompts which you can see here.  These used to be 101 words.  Sometimes they still are.  Sometimes not.  They are often snippets, occasionally unfinished and sometimes simply the beginnings of something for another time.  Mostly though they are just whatever the words inspire.  

Connor stood at the bar and finished his…what was it?  Sixth? Seventh drink?

He wasn’t really sure and to be honest it didn’t really matter and the bar man wasn’t interested as long as he kept paying.  But whichever drink it was he finished it in one and beckoned for another, sliding the glass across the bar top.

“Steady on there cowboy” came a voice as smooth and as sweet as honey.  “Drinking alone will get you in trouble.”

He turned slowly, instincts telling him to play it cool and the booze leaving him unsteady on his feet.

“What if I like trouble” he said placing a hand on the sticky bar top to steady himself.  The barman glanced over and shook his head smiling.  “What if I just enjoy…”  He stopped short.

“What if you just enjoy what?” she said running her hand up his arm.

Perhaps it was the drink, or maybe it was the truth – or at least the sort of truth you believe after however many drinks he had finished – but he was certain that she was the more gorgeous thing he had ever seen.

Short dark wavy hair framed her face and her dark eyes smiled and for a minute it felt like she was looking right into his soul.  It made him uncomfortable and excited at the same time.  Actually mostly he was just excited.

Even in the dark of the bar he could see that beneath her tight red dress she had a body built for sin and the slit in her skirt showed more leg than he’d seen even when he was still married and certainly since.  He couldn’t help but stare at her mouth as she spoke, her lips a bright red in stark contrast to her pale skin.

“Cat got your tongue?” She said smiling.

Christ she smelled good he thought, willing her to bit her lip.  He loved a lip biter.  Chances were he’d explode right where he stood if she did.  He took a breath and offered to buy her a drink.

“Oh I’m not really thirsty” she said edging closer and leaning in to whisper in his ear, her hand on chest and the sweet scent of vanilla filling his senses.

“Now? You sure?”  His heart pounded as she nodded. He turned and gave the barman a thumbs up as she lead him from the bar.  “Still got it” he shouted across the noise of the room.  The barman waved and wiped down the bar top.

Holding her hand her skin was soft and he watched her as she walked just ahead of him, her backside like two kittens fighting in a sack.  He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.  She lead him outside and they slipped down the side of the building and around the back of the bar, neon lighting their way and her heels clicking as they went.

“How’s about here?” she said turning around and pushing him against the wall forcefully,  pressing herself against him.  His hands instinctively reached for her the kittens and he squeezed her as she bit her lip staring at him.

“Oh god” he muttered.

“What’s wrong honey?” she asked, her mouth now just inches from his and her hands on his chest and sliding slowly downwards.  He gasped as he felt her unbuckle his belt and tried to kiss her, hungry to taste her lips.

She pulled back and grinned.  “So You ready then?” she said playfully.  He nodded and closed his eyes, desperate to feel her fingers around him.

She pressed closer still and he felt every curve of her body against his.  He could feel her breath on his lips and he knew that any minute he would feel her soft warm candy red lips.  His hands ran up her back and then back down her sides, resting on her hips, as she pulled down his zip.  God this was really happening he said to himself.  He wanted to touch her, to feel her, explore her.

“I…” he struggled for words as he felt the button of his jeans being opened.

She stopped and took his hand from her hip and steered him to her stomach and then guided him lower still.

“You want it don’t you?” he said staring into her eyes.

She nodded and licked her lips.

Every fibre in his body reacted and he reached under the slit of her skirt, her skin smooth and warm.

“Oh yes baby do it” said kissing closing her eyes.

His heart pounded and he spun her around, reversing their positions and pushing her against the wall.  This was it, he was going to have her.  Right here.  Tight now.

He leaned in and kissed her, lips soft and warm and her tongue already searching for his as their lips met.  His hand slid further under her skirt and she bit his lip playfully groaning as his hand passed over her thigh.

“Yes, oh yes” she said and kissed him back, her stance widening welcoming him between her thighs.  “Touch me.”

As her tongue entered his mouth he closed his eyes and reached for her, hungry to feel how she was responding to him.

“Christ” he said stepping back, the colour draining from his face.  “You…you’re…”

“What’s wrong baby?” she asked running her finger over her lips. “Jealous because it’s bigger than yours?”

The dream of all dreams – Room 101

A thing for Friday

This is in response to M’s fabulous prompts which you can see here.  These used to be 101 words.  Sometimes they still are.  Sometimes not.  They are often snippets, occasionally unfinished and sometimes simply the beginnings of something for another time.  Mostly though they are just whatever the words inspire.  This one goes with this one I did yesterday as I felt they went well together…

 

Stan’s eyes felt heavy, as if pinned down by the weight of the darkness that surrounded him, his head filled with a static that made it hard to think.  Hard to remember.  He could hear a beep, beep, beep as he lay whilst his mind scrambled to piece the shards of remembrances together.

With an effort that took everything he had, he strained against the confusion and managed to pry them open, only to be met by vague and confusing out of focus images.  Wincing he closed them again and succumbed to the comfort of the embracing blackness.

“Where…?” He asked himself, “where is this?” His mouth dry as he struggled to find the right words as a mix of sounds and smells washed over him like the lapping of distant waves.

And then he heard her, feint above the beep, beep, beep, somehow familiar and comforting, and he knew she mattered more than anything, but in a moment as he reached out she was gone, slopping through his fingers like fog.

He opened his mouth to scream, to call her name, but there was nothing there, only a suffocating silence and each breath felt like a fire trapped inside his chest.  Fists clenched he tried to move, to reach out, to grab hold of her and to tell her to wait but she melted into the inky shadows of  his mind as the beep, beep, beep slowed.

Beep

Beep

Beep…

 

 

Petals and Parasols – Room 101

Another thing about stuff and people and more stuff

This is in response to M’s fabulous prompts which you can see here.  These used to be 101 words.  Sometimes they still are.  Sometimes not.  They are often snippets, occasionally unfinished and sometimes simply the beginnings of something for another time.  Mostly though they are just whatever the words inspire.  This one goes with this one I did yesterday as I felt they went well together…

 

Whenever the rain fell he thought of her, of the time they had spent in Paris together and how they had loved without any thought for the repercussions.  To fall so hard and so deep and so very, very quickly was intoxicating and she was a tempest like no one he had ever known .

He remembered the way she looked as she slept, the morning sun golden on her soft pale skin as she lay naked on the bed.  He could still feel her against him when he closed his eyes, the way she smelled and moved.

She made him feel complete and like nothing else mattered, only whatever it was that they were when they were together, which was always.

Watching the rain pool and swirl about his feet he pulled the collar of his coat around his ears and tried to forget the times when the bed was empty, when the clock ticked by as he sat alone and wondered where she was.  She had so many friends, it was understandable because she was pure joy to be around and you could not but help to want to spend time with her.

The rain, cold on his cheeks, mingled with tears as cars drove by splashing onwards through the night and off into the distance.  Standing on the bridge looking out over the Seine feint church bells called out and he saw her face again, filled with the pain and sadness that his jealousy had caused and he recalled with a knot in his stomach how she had begged him to trust her.

Most of all though he remembered the silence that followed her screams…

 

 

A Day of Denial – Room 101

Another thing about stuff and people and more stuff

This is in response to M’s fabulous prompts which you can see here.  These used to be 101 words.  Sometimes they still are, like this one.  Sometimes not.  They are often snippets, occasionally unfinished and sometimes simply the beginnings of something for another time.  Mostly though they are just whatever the words inspire.  This one goes with this one I did yesterday as I felt they went well together…

The sea of smiling faces turned as the doors opened slowly, the first strains of the organ playing.

She was a vision in white but all he could feel was rage.  Rage at the thing inside her, the thing that bound him to her.  Rage at how they valued nothing but money, and who saw him as merely another thing to be possessed.

She smiled at her sister as she approached, another vacuous thing living only to please daddy.  “I should bend her over” he thought to himself smiling.

The music stopped as she took his hand.

“You look beautiful darling.”

 

 

 

 

 

You look beautiful

 

Blushing Brilliance – Room 101

Another thing about stuff and people and more stuff

This is in response to M’s fabulous prompts which you can see here.  These used to be 101 words.  Sometimes they still are, like this one.  Sometimes not.  They are often snippets, occasionally unfinished and sometimes simply the beginnings of something for another time.  Mostly though they are just whatever the words inspire.  This one goes with another to be published tomorrow as I felt they went well together…

As the doors opened she saw him standing there, waiting, smiling.  So very obedient and willing, like a little dog.  He was far from perfect but he would do for now.

She instinctively touched her stomach and breathed deep.  “God it better be a boy” she thought to herself.  That would shut her sister up for sure, her and her watery bollocked husband.  They’d only given him girls and they both knew how much the old man wanted a grand son.

“Ready pumpkin?” he asked, the music playing.  “He’s waiting.”

She squeezed his hand and smiled.

“Thank you daddy, for everything”

 

 

Looking for Love

I’ve been here for some time now, and let me just say I am a big BIG fan of you earth girls. 

 

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Name: Darren
Age: 43 Terran years 
Relationship Status: It’s complicated
Pedal:Bi

I’ve been here for some time now, and let me just say I am a big BIG fan of you earth girls.  With the relaxation of the cross species breeding regulations I am looking to find someone who shares similar passions to mine.

I love musical theatre and long walks on the beach and despite all that nasty death ray business am really an old romantic at heart.   I adore late 18th century french poetry and I love to cook, and when it comes to wine have a great collection of Chilean reds which are just so fruity and a real treat.

When I’m not in the kitchen, immersed in Oklahoma! or enjoying the outdoors you’re sure to find me in the bedroom and if you’re a fan of probing then believe me, I am your guy.  With Calgarian College of Probing certificates in Entry and Exit Studies, Intermediate Intestinal Investigations and advanced Rectal Ruminations I am sure to delight you in every way possible.

If probing leaves you feeling a little violated then dont let that put you off, I have a ten inch throbulus and with a little yoga and a cheeky sense of adventure I am sure we could make it magical.

So if you’re looking for something a little different how about you swipe right, and let’s hook up and see whether I can make you see stars.

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In response to M’s prompt, ‘Meet you later by the flux capacitor.

One more Day

As time draws near and daylight fades and night knocks on my door…

As time draws near and daylight fades and night knocks on my door

To take my hand and lead away to far and distant shore

I know that I shall want one more, and beg that I may stay

to spend with you from waking hours until the end of day

 

To see you smile and hear your voice and watch you as you sleep

and laugh and love and cry and drink of all you are quite deep

and so to sunset one last time I hold you in my arms

and lovers promises I make and swear I’ll never harm

 

And in those moments faces lined and eyes still burning bright

I kiss your lips and say farewell and head into the night

without regret without remorse and love without relent

and thank you for your years and love and faith and life well spent

Fizzy Whizzy’s – March Prompts 1/31

In celebration at the end of a rather serious February

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

You can see the prompts here.

 

The night was cold

And creatures old

Came creeping from the deep

And to your bed

Dreams in your head

They come your soul to keep

 

Long fingers bone

Into your home

The knob they slowly turn

And they possess

The things you bless

And for your keepsakes yearn

 

They feed on lust

Deceit, mistrust

On hearts so black and busy

They see your lies

Your burning thighs

Here come the fizzy wizzy

 

And as dawn breaks

Their prey they take

And never to return

Bed empty left

Of life bereft

Take heed and lesson learn

Cupid’s Conspiracy – In the Dark 20

In celebration at the end of a rather serious February

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we.

You can see the prompts here.

So cupid woke in quite a mood

thought, “no bugger this lark!

I’m of a mind to be quite rude”

And out he did embark

In search of those who go unloved

Mischievous now his quest

With arrow true, pulled back, take aim

And shoot to lonely chest

With temper foul, his aim not skew

“Just watch this!” he did gloat

And stuck poor Brian, made him love

Old Barnaby the goat

And Barnaby he quite bewitched

His goat loins filled with lust

For Brian in his corduroys

Man/goat love now a must

And cupid laughed and watched them both

Their eyes and bodies burning

A love affair, a passion lit

A tale of cross breed yearning

And to his home Brian did take

Barnaby, who gladly went

And frantic loving they enjoyed

Until they both were spent

And Cupid clapped his hands with glee

his mission quite achieved

he made poor Brian love that goat

and goat seemed rather pleased

And to this day together still

their love endures quite strong

and they take turns at who’s on top

‘cos Brian can’t last long

Amorous affections – In the Dark 22

The devil made me do it.

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead.  I did them all in December but was less successful in January.  Let’s see how we do in February shall we.

You can see the prompts here.

 

Gentle and tender his caress

pulse races, in his arms

Undying love he will confesses

He’ll never do her harm

 

She swears she’s his, her searching done

He knows that she’s the one

His roaming days are left behind

She’s his summer and his sun

 

She melts as lips, so soft and warm

Meet hers and deep she sighs

Her stomach flips, does somersaults

She’s lost inside his eyes

 

And under sun, both warm and bright

He knows she’ll be his bride

She bites her lip, and whispers sweet

“pop two fingers inside”

Brian and Carla – 75 word Story

Just a quick something

Brian looked into his wife’s eyes and sighed.

“I’m so sorry it ended like this” he said “I wanted it to work but I realise we want different things.”

Carla said nothing, staring back expressionless.

“I know” Brian continued.  “I know it’s my fault I just…”

Brian paused, he had hoped for something.  Anything.

“Fine, just fine” he said picking up his shovel and tipping soil over Carla’s already stiffening body.  “Silent treatment it is…”

One more day

Let’s try a little serious shall we…

Okay so I piss about a bit with my blog I realise. If my poems had a ‘Eeeeuuuwww button’ then I am pretty sure it would get pressed more than my likes. I was challenged by Roda – I think that’s what happened – to try a happy ending or two so for this week I will have a crack at a few more pleasant subjects.

At Days close he waits content

to say goodbye and drift to night

and in those moments years rolled back

warm smiles and joy and eyes shine bright

Her warm embrace and tender kiss

and babies cries and laughter sweet

when blankets laid across his knees

worn eyes do close and visions greet

First words, first steps, first dates first kiss

long days dark nights but then

he sees her face and hears her voice

and love’s restored again

And as he slips to dark and rest

a life well lived he sees

of family, love and heart and hearth

life passing like the breeze

And in that moment vivid, clear

old lips whisper and say

each day a treasure I received

farewell, on this last day