• Masturbation Monday,  Poems

    Your Love is my shepherd, I shall not want

    Your Love is my shepherd; I shall not want It allows me to lie down in the greenest of pastures, safe beside Your still waters It restores my soul And though I walk, nightly, through The Valley of The Shadow of Dreams, I will fear no Evil for Your Love is with me Your words and your heart, they comfort me. You prepare the bed before me in the presence of my insecurities You anoint my body with oil, the cup at the apex of my thighs runneth over Surely Goodness and Mercy shall follow me all the hours of this night and I will dwell in the house of…

  • Masturbation Monday,  Poems

    Manic Pixie/Dream Girl

    light as air, she’s always on top her gaze an atom bomb behind my eyelids and I feel like I’m drowning in her desire until she teaches me to swim she rides me wild and shows me dreams of the forests in her mind wings spread as she ascends turning me inside out then outside in she’s a manic pixie dream girl of the glen a toadstool go-go dancer a vision at dusk she leaves me at dawn   click here to see the magical photo that’s inspiring us this week

  • Masturbation Monday,  Poems

    Hush

    Silenced, the stillness in your smile pins me in place Heavy words make way for heavy eyes and the Limits of this dance expand in the quiet space we’ve carved My mouth is empty of words My mind is empty of thoughts Excepting you, accepting me Tethered to you In word, in deed, indeed You’re counting my freckles and I’m swimming up Up into your voice and the halcyon glow it casts I’m not even the moth to your flame I’m the wick Light me up and blow me out Collect me from this pink sunset Bring me down from this high Slowly Softly Hush.

  • January Jump Start,  Poems

    Dream Sequence

    At first I couldn’t find you at the party. I knew you would be there because I had opened your gift. I finally found you in the basement in an old gymnasium. You were doing the rings, lifting yourself masterfully, defying gravity. I thanked you for the book and you kissed me deeply without saying a word. My face was dusty from the chalk on your hands. Your eyes were remarkably soft and adoring. I woke up missing you.  

  • Boob Day,  femmedom,  Poems

    Boob Day: Baby, it’s cold outside

    The wind may be howling, the snow may be blowing, but I’m cozy and warm in bed, my mind filled with thoughts of you. Thoughts of how I’d tie you down and tease you with my mouth and hands, thoughts of how you’d squirm and wiggle beneath me, how you’d beg and moan and whimper. We could stay here all day, just you, me and the storm.    

  • autobiographical,  femmedom,  Poems

    I want, I want, I want

    I want to be trusted I want to be worshiped I want to be understood   I want to adore him I want to protect him I want to watch him change and grow   I want to own his body I want to hurt him I want to lick his wounds   I want to be his lighthouse in the storm I want him to reach for me in his sleep I want to be his compass   I want to whisper “Mine.” I want to hear him answer “Yours.” I want to feel him relinquish himself to me   I want to hold him I want to call…

  • Poems,  Smut Marathon 2018

    Nectar

    The honey bee knows the sweetest nectar is from the ripest figs, fulsome and sticky, bleeding milk from their stems, their dusky skins nearly splitting in the summer heat. The ripest figs lure the most bees.The riper the fig, the more doting the bee

  • body image,  Boob Day,  Poems

    BoobDay: The Unofficial End

    Autumn doesn’t start for a few weeks but this weekend is the unofficial end of summer. If you had told me even a few years ago that I’d be happily wearing short skirts and bathing suits, tank tops and sundresses in stead of hiding my body and avoiding the beach, I never would have believed you.