Missing You

Platonic friends we are,
knowing there is a line that should not be crossed.
But I can not get it out of my head
the way you touched me.
So attentive to what I needed....
even though it was a massage between friends.
Your hands spoke volumes that your mouth would not.
How I crave your touch now.

Do you even know what you have done to me?

I have lost myself
in the idea of us.
The heat we might create
if only you would give me reason to pursue this lust.

To feel your hands upon me.
To have you make my heart race
as we work each other into a frenzy of sensual passion
each turning the other out as a feral creature
intent on consuming each other.

I will see you again in a week's time.
and I wonder if you think of me
in the spaces between our encounters,
if you crave my touch the way I crave yours,
if you miss me the way I miss you?

Or am I just your friend,
your teacher,
your student;
repulsive to you
by virtue
of the baggage I carry?

What You Do To Me

I step into your sanctuary for the first time

Alone, just the two of us.

I pick up on your true essence.

A sweet, innocent and playful soul;

Young in so many ways

And oh, so open to what I can show you.

We teach each other

In a constant play and sharing of ideas.

We barter talent for talent

And pleasure for pleasure

My hands upon you

I touch you tenderly

Offering up all the love I can muster,

Healing whatever wounds you may harbor in your soul.

My heart races,

My mind swirls

Unrealistic scenarios playing out in my head.

I wonder,

In your vulnerable state,

Would you stop me if I made a move?

If I kissed you just once?

If dared to cross that line?

Are you hoping that I will?

I pull myself back

Remembering the tumultuous start of our friendship.

How I loved you one day

And loathed you the next.

I stare down at your peaceful face,

Place a hand at your crown

And one over your heart,

Praying you allow me to channel the love I feel for you now.

We trade off

You know what needs attention without my telling you

You know my body and how to touch me to ease my pain

But this time is different.

I lay upon your bed

Scented oil permeates the air

And for the first time, you give me more than prescribed.

You work your magic and massage the hurts away.

Strong hands glide over my muscles and skin

With a power, skill and strength in your touch

That shows me an intimate glimpse of a man attentive to a woman's needs.

I find myself wishing for you to be inappropriate.

To accidentally ignite me to see what happens.

Please give me a reason to unleash a wildness upon you.

Spring Fever

One of my first ever Erotic Poems....so good had to republish it since it is a poignant piece in my life right now.

I’m moist as a flower,
Wet with dew
Consume my sweet petals
Plunge your tongue deep
And taste my nectar

Feel my body rise and tense
with each flick of your tongue
Awaken my lust

Let me take you deep
Inside of me
Grabbing hold and letting go
Feeling you consume my very core

I want to melt into you,
Become you,
Feel you,

I’m yours for the asking

……ask me.

A Timid Gavotte

I at one side of the room,
You at the other
Each sizing the other one up.
Both too timid to make the first move.

You feign disinterest
While I work to push your buttons.
A bare shoulder shown here, a suggestive word dropped there.
These things get your attention and pique your interest.

Yet you fight against my lure
One step forward, three steps back.
Minding your distance, weighing your words,
Offering up pleasantries instead of desire.

Must I be the aggressor
And risk looking like the fool?
Or will you finally step forth
Admitting your own conflict within?