The Beginning

You look at me with serious eyes, your face yielding
to my hands; carefully we kiss, tongues barely touching.
I knew you as intelligent, fearless, intriguing,
but when you reached out to me, in natural kindness,
I saw a deeper person, of strength and sadness hidden.

Are you a girl who fights, who won't compromise
your view of black and white; of others'
more simple ways of getting through, of telling lies?
Or is your fight to keep control, to stop the world
demanding that you go beyond your comfort zone?

I feel the tension in your lack of ease;
your control is not the same as confidence, but I am here
for you, a confidante for your deeper needs.
To guide your power of letting go, of revelling in your passion,
your wish to please and finding pleasure in control given.

As I grip your hair and pin your arms behind you,
soft moans and gasps make words redundant
and tell me that the captain of this ship has found a crew,
of rare delight, to explore needs of flesh on flesh together,
in continents of delightful, dark desires.

Simple rules are not the route for us; a richer field
of battle lies in wait, where trust will be tested, forged
in minds and willing bodies, hungry to yield
to each the needs of the other; where touch will light
the way for our eyes to see deep into each heart.

But when the fighting is done and you lie by me exhausted,
I will enfold you in my arms, to gently kiss your eyes
and stroke your hair, to feel as one, our bodies sated.
Our dreamy thoughts will be of both, the learning together,
of hopes and needs, affection and trust created.

Start with my mind. Touch me there first.

Run a fingertip along the edge of my fantasies. Learn where the sharp, unexpected edges are, and revel in the feel of each deviant curve. Pick one up and play with it.

Trace a long, meandering path through the depths of my desire until you know it as well as your own.

Put your lips against the secrets I tell you, the things I have never shared with anyone else, and kiss each and every one as you would a treasured gift.

Strip me of the things I hide behind so that I stand naked and vulnerable, but only to you.

Pinch away, a little at a time, the things that no longer need matter to me, making room only for you.

Brush up against my need to give of myself, but don't grab at it with both hands just yet. Use all of your body and mind to stroke and tease me here, until my tears flow because I know you want and understand me, and I offer myself to you freely.

With loving but firm hands, smack away the doubts that I am not strong enough to push away on my own.

Grip me with the truths I need to see about myself. Shake me until I do.

Embrace my dreams, my memories, and my failures. Everything that makes me who I am.

Fill me with your dreams, your memories, and your failures. Hand over your wants and your desires, and everything you have been screaming silently inside to share or to be.
If you dare to trust me fully, then I will know that my trust is safe with you.

Press every inch of your soul against every inch of mine so that I feel owned, protected, cherished.

My body is aching, my soul is longing, and my heart is waiting.

But start with my mind. Touch me there first.

By Mark Grist-

"So... what do you go for in a girl?"
He crows, lifting the lager to his lips.
He gestures where his friend sits and
Downs his glass.
"He prefers tits.
I prefer ass.
What do you go for in a girl?"

I feel quite uncomfortable.
The air left the room a long time ago.
All eyes are on me.
"Well, if you must know...
I want a girl who reads."

Yeah.
Reads.
I'm not trying to call you a chauvinist
Because I know you're not alone in this, but...

I want a girl who reads.
Who needs the written word
And uses the added vocabulary
She gleans from novels and poetry
To hold lively conversation
In a range of social situations.

I want a girl who reads.
Who's heart bleeds at the words of Graham Greene
Or even "People" magazine.
Who will tie back her hair while reading Jane Eyre
And goes cover to cover with each Waterstones "three for two" offer.
But I want a girl who doesn't stop there.

I want a girl who reads.
One who feeds her addiction for fiction
With unusual poems and plays
That she hunts out in crooked bookshops for days and days and days.
She'll sit addicted at breakfast, soaking up the back of the cornflakes box,
And the information she gets from what she reads makes her a total FOX.
Because she's interesting.
And unique.
And her theories make me go weak
In the knees.

I want a girl who reads.
A girl who's eyes will analyze the menu over dinner.
Who'll use what she learns to kick my ass in arguments
So she always comes out the winner.
But she'll still be sweet.
And she'll still be flirty.
Because she loves the classics....
And those get pretty dirty.
So late at night, she'll always have me in a stupor
As we re enact the raunchy bits from the works of Jilly Cooper.

See...
Some guys prefer asses.
Some guys prefer tits.
And I'm not saying that I don't love those bits.
But what's more important...
What supersedes...
Is a girl with passion, wit, and dreams.

So I'd like a girl who reads.

WHY?

Why do I want to hurt you

when I love you?

Why do I kiss you till my jaw aches

then spank you till my hand stings?

Why does my heart pound and my cock rise

when I have you bound to my bed?

Why do I feel so horny

when I spring my cane on your arse?

Because you want me to release you

through my control.

Because I feel your mind

and hold you

as I take you down,

as pleasure floods your body

into your fiery pool of pain.

Because you trust me

to hold your heart, safe

With the hot weather some weeks back I got all horny. My vanillerish fantasy started very sensuously and that part of it  tumbled out onto a page

 Fantasy Island 

I want to touch you with my fingertips , softly - to make  tremors in your mind

I want to breathe your smell, deeply-  to  find your animal inside

I want to taste your skin, your lips, your breasts, your pussy, your everywhere,  gloriously -  to  eat  your  very soul

I want to fuck you, hard - for you  to be mine.

Awake now

you lie there, languid, revelling

in  the trust between  us.

You look into my eyes, surrendering

your body, to my keeping.

You smile and I spread your legs, wide

to trace the wicked wheel inside your thighs

and lick you, once, twice, with a flick

of my tongue, like a whip .

Your pussy yearns towards my mouth,

but I score your softest skin,

as the wicked wheel sparkles on

around your tummy and your breasts.

I enter you; Oh, how your warmth and wetness is like a shock that says

- I've been away too long!

We  swirl and sink, into waves of lust;

I grip your hair and pull,

running my hands around your face, your scalp,  your throat.

I bite your ears, your neck, your breasts....

and say-" You must'nt come, You must'nt come yet!"

I  tease you and smack you and kiss you

and hold you and lick you and bite you and fuck you.

You  twitch and moan as though electricity, not touch, is in play

until I command, " Come, Come now!" 

You lie there, limp, swept up on the  beach of fantasy island

safe, after your  storm of roaring, falling,  giving, has ebbed

slowly, into the sand.

 You lie now,  warm in my arms, asleep

and I feel my heart melt in wonder

at your softness, your smell, your taste , your love

and that,  you  are mine.