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i will…

Dear Gentle Sir,

I will fuck you. I will put my mouth on you. You will hear my sexy voice in your ear, a whisper of hard going straight to your gorgeous cock. I will undress for you, look you in the eyes and smile. And when I lie with you, my back will arch so you can feel my soft tits wrapped in hot mouth, under and around your lapping tongue.  As my nipples harden, my fingers will trace your sweet face, run through your hair, along your nape, over your broad shoulders and down your spine as far as I can reach.

And as I travel down, over the ridges and curves of your beautiful (so fucking beautiful) man-body, my fingers will imprint my desire – they will memorize your pleasure.

I will go down on you. I will be your sweet little cocksucker.  I will spread my silky thighs for you to kiss and we will suckle and slurp, nibble, tug and drink.  I will moan. I will sigh your name. I will clench my hands around you and groan for more.  I will taste divine. I will soak whatever you put in me. I will drip on whatever you put under me.

My tongue will trace you.
My body will embrace you.
I will take your breath away.

I will make you forget… the things you want to remember – the doubt and worry and fear. I will say “yes” until you forget even that matters and we will just BE the yes to one another. I will rub my swollen clit against your raging cock as it tap, tap, taps at my many doors. I will soak your delicious dick as you slip inside. I will press my hot skin against  yours.

I will hold you. I will hold you with my eyes, my arms, my thighs, my cries for more. I will pant. I will glow with the shine of our exertions, I will taste your salty skin and I will squirm. I will need you… and you will feel my heat.

I will call your name and it will be our anthem.

I will make love to you in a thousand ways, with all my parts, slow and gentle… pounding and grinding. I will feel your ass clench each time you move deeper, so deep inside me. I will be inspired each time I hear pleasure slip out of you. And my passion will pull you beyond, draw out who you thought you were until you accept who you are.

I will make you feel.
And you will have permission.

I will feel your hands pulling at me, grabbing, holding, tugging, gripping me with fervour.  I will match each buck and moan with my own. I will wrap my long limbs around you as you lift me, as you spin me, pin me.  I will ride you to the moon and back. Your weight will be my elixir. Our Dirty will be the Good. And my juices will flow down us in a tide – we will be an ocean of acceptance.

I will kiss your perfect face, your gorgeous chest. I will close my eyes from the pressure building inside me. My brow will furrow as your jaw drops and clenches, as your cock whips me into a fuck-frenzy. I will dance. I will dance for you on this pole I love, on this gift you give me over and over again.  I will pulse. I will gasp. I won’t be able to stop.

All over you, I will cum.

I will cum with your name on my lips.
I will cum for you as you watch me.
I will cum and reach for you with my every cell but my voice will reach you first.

I will smell our sex on my skin, on yours.
I will smile and mew at your flushed beauty.
I will trace and hold you anew.

I will whisper to you all your glories and you will believe me: I will speak true. I will give this to you… and more.

Ever  Sweetly Yours,

Lola Moi xo

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drunk as drunk…

Drunk as drunk on turpentine
From your open kisses,
Your wet body wedged
Between my wet body and the strake
Of our boat that is made of flowers,
Feasted, we guide it – our fingers
Like tallows adorned with yellow metal –
Over the sky’s hot rim,
The day’s last breath in our sails.


Pinned by the sun between solstice
And equinox, drowsy and tangled together
We drifted for months and woke
With the bitter taste of land on our lips,
Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime
And the sound of a rope
Lowering a bucket down its well. Then,
We came by night to the Fortunate Isles,
And lay like fish
Under the net of our kisses.

– Pablo Neruda –

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you will…

Dear Gentle Sir,

You will rest your mouth on my nipple. You will drape your tongue around each supple mound until I am hard.  And then, you will suck.  You will suck on me until my back arches, while my throat moans, and my fingers become lost in your hair.  Your hands – strong and sure – they will hold me in place.  They will hold me while I squirm and arch and wriggle my pleasure beneath your broad expanse.  You will press your body against mine.  You will hold me tight against you.  With each pounding, you will spread me wider, plunge me deeper. You will take me to the edge and we will fall.

My tits will bound to your rhythm.
My back and hips will dance to your beat.
My limbs will clasp and splay as I cry out your name.

You will do this.
While you suck and hold and fuck me.
You will do this because I want… no, need you to.
And you will not stop.
You will do this until we fall.
(Oh, may we plummet!)
Again.
and
Again.
You will do this until I cum.
You will do this until I am done.

Ever Yours,

Lola Moi xo

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what matters…

Small intimacies, they matter
In the gestures of every day living
Out of the comfort that comes from care
All that sharing brings

The way your thumb plays with my knuckle when I hold your hand.  When you brush hair from my cheek and put it behind my ear.  When you say my name.  The way your lap molds to my weight. Dressing beside you.  When you talk about your day, the show you saw, the thought you had sitting on the bus. Walking beside you through warm air and crisp breezes.  The way soap suds fall down your body, eventually slipping off the end of your sweet, sleepy cock.  Sipping hot drinks on cool mornings, the sun bathing our sleepy eyes in promise. The way you reach back for me, your eyes smiling over your shoulder. When your breath catches. The pitch of your voice as you rant about whatever it is that grips your heart’s attention. When you ask and then listen. Watching you wake.  The way your name feels in my mouth. The texture of your arms. Your words. Every smile you give me.

Each gesture is intimate.

Every day is a comfort knowing you care
What matters is not time or distance but the sharing
The living and the trying again and the doing the best we can

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no words…

It doesn’t matter that we don’t always understand the Now or can imagine the Future – I still want to kiss you all the time.
Your smell lingers on me for days after we have touched.
My knees still grow weak from your one casual glance.
Your voice trembles down along my spine, landing hot and wet between my legs – always between my legs.
Your eyes slay me; I am riveted, there is no going back.
Not now.

Listen.

Can you hear my heart beat faster?
There are no words.

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why i ask…

Dear Gentle Sir,

I should probably be more threatened by other women, by the women who surround you in your every day – the ones I don’t know, the ones I know you are attracted to, even those you have been with.  And on the rare occasion that I do feel such uncertainty, it is only for want of something that can never be because try as I might, I cannot be everything to you; I will never be your All.

This is the risk one takes when giving and receiving another’s trust and heart-truth.

I am not easily threatened because more than that, I am overtly curious.  For every time your heart patters or your cock dances, it reveals aspects of yourself that I thought I knew or have yet to experience with you.  And I want to know you.  I like knowing all about you.  I love knowing what turns you on. And if she makes you moan, then tell me… so I can learn.  I want to awaken your hunger like she does but do it in my own way.

This may unnerve you – my need to ask, to know, to picture who and how you are/ have been with other women.  My need for naked truth between us may feel like too much and I don’t mean to batter at your door.   In this way, I may feel most unfamiliar and be unlike any woman you know or have known… and may ever know.

But you, you are unlike any man I know; your attractions are varied and surprising and far from cliché. What attracts you to one may not be the same with another.  Your tastes are refined and your complexity is part of what makes you so fucking sexy to me.

So, when I ask, I want to know because I want to know what pleases you so that I might please you.  When I ask, it’s because I want to eradicate worry and doubt and fear from the spaces between us.  When I ask, I am trying to be brave (in spite of my flaws and insecurities) and give to you in a way that no one else has before.

When I ask, I am asking because the more I know, the more I can give.  When I ask, I am letting you decide how much permission I have to be who I am, and yes, with each answer, you determine who we both can be…

Ever with Sweet Promise,

Lola Moi xo

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always and ever…

Dear Gentle Sir,

The side of my breast is smooth, a rounded orb that fits perfectly in your palm. My inner thighs, smooth as silk, spread when I say your name.  My back in constant arch awaits your touch.  My skin trembles to hear your voice.  I love it when you go down on me; I am already wet for you.  Even when your appetite changes, mine does not; I only want you.

Always and Ever,

Lola Moi xo

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all the pretty things…

I dress for myself, this is true. But this is also true: when I dress, I dress for you. I shop for pretty things, for lacy, racy things that cinch and clip and caress and cup.  No need to make more of who I am, I just need enough to heighten, present, and showcase all that I love about me, all that is yours to love, and all that I have to give.

This pretty, lacy, racy me hides beneath the every day of cottons and coats – the every day me that everyone else gets to see.

Truth?  When I slip into my skirt and tank, my jeans and sweaters, shorts… and when I buy my next dress, I’ll picture you looking back at me; I’ll clothe myself in a naive hope that you will be tempted by what the mirror shows.  My dream is that you will be haunted and breathless, knowing what awaits you every day here, under the layers of me.


And as you settle back to watch me peel off each bit of cotton down to each lacy, racy layer, until there is nothing between us, then I will settle at your feet and spread and beg and arch and yes, buck with each strain and grip along your back, your ass, and arms; your neck and hands held tight in my gentle but oh, so needy hands… every inch of your flesh suckled and nibbled – gripped hard and sweet pink by my hungry mouth… this self-same mouth that pants and whispers and moans and groans and howls all the pretty things you want to hear.