Secret Thots for a Very Private Gentleman
tales, temptation, and titillation…
You think I don’t know
when you ask me to roll over
lift spread fold my legs
and shift my moans to the side
that you are finding the fit
you have with her
with me.
You think I don’t cum
thinking about her sweet, tight cunt
engorged with your thick, eager cock
as you lift spread fold her legs
shift her to the side
and overoverover fill her
with your love.
– Lola Moi –
The universe is small enough
to hold hands with mystery
as it stuffs another number in its pocket.
Vast, starlit skies
pause in their dance with the moon
looking for keys that jangle
in some unseen corner of a shoulder bag.
Silver spills like milk across a prussian-hued nightstand.
The earth whispers, “Shhhh…”
tucking in against the chill
while verdant winds weep
sneak
along a nape
daring to loiter in hair now tied back, taut.
The earth whispers, “Shhhh…”
We stop
and our echoes diminish.
Love is mute
and I have gone to bed.
– Lola Moi –
I been brought down to zero, pulled out and put back there.
I sat on a park bench, kissed the girl with the black hair
and my head shouted down to my heart,
“You better look out below!”
– John Prine –
Breathe my name with your sigh.
When my nipple hardens in your mouth.
Hearing your voice, husky and hot in my ear.
The way you watch me as I undress for you.
Your cum face.
Licking and sucking the length and width of your dancing cock.
Hearing your fantasies, making them happen.
To dress for you, without a bra and barely a pair of panties.
A hearty, deep finger fuck.
My long legs draped over your shoulders.
My lips barely tracing your body… all over.
Your sex smell.
Being completely still and naked in front of the other, barely breathing… watching the other.
Your hands gripping tight in my hair, on my hips, around my breasts.
Every time you blush.
When you undress me, slowly, gently, sweetly.
When you firmly, unapologetically hold my wrists above my head, pin them behind my back.
When your brow creases from need, from the intensity of our pleasure.
The nape of your neck.
Knowing what you think when you touch yourself.
Your secrets.