Agony of Our Love

by f-cynyr ©

Your dark yearning for the bliss of pain,
drove you to my bed of suffering and torment.
Your eyes pleading to find fulfillment
of your hidden desire,
you came to me to find the treasured ache,
to find the cherished hurt.
You came to me with a need for cuffs, and lashing.
You came to me craving the sweetest pain.

I took you and tied you and bound you
to my tortured love.
I stretched you upon my bed of thorns,
where you clench and twist, every muscle
drawn taut against my ropes.
You hungered for the lash,
for the kiss of every fall.
You begged for every stroke,
and pleaded for the pain.
You longed to savor the suffering.
You longed to adore the bruises.
You wished for the exquisite torture
that would bring your release.

I lash and lash with my flogger,
your body shivers and trembles,
you flinch with every affectionate sting.
Each lash bites into your desire,
leaving faint ghostly welts,
a satisfying thatchwork of
cruel caresses on your pure Irish back.
Each lash a cherished ache,
each strike a beloved discomfort,
each fall delivers you deeper into
the wonderful agony,
deeper into your worshipful suffering.
You ride the cascades of pleasure
into the darkest of your needs,
into the bitten heart of
your tormented rapture.

My flogger pauses and I know
I’m your Master, my Irish selkie.
I secured you to my will with harsh tenderness,
with the cherished bite of my crop.
I tied you to my wishes with exquisite pain,
bound you to my bliss with tender misery,
chained you to my hunger with each wound
of affection.
Now you are owned in so many ways.
Now you kneel before me,
your beloved tormentor.
Now you bow to me, collared and cuffed.

I lash and lash with flogger and crop
till you glow from the strokes,
till you are lost in the sweet agony,
lost in the excruciating joy,
till your lips throb and swell,
till your lust froths
and leaks down your leg.
I pause, and watch you drift,
then make you tremble as my hand and
fingers cool the burn and open you more.
You whimper, then thrash
as the searing tenderness pushes
you into the abyss of your lust,
into the depths of your darkest want.

You strain, lost in your hunger,
lost in the cruelty of love,
tangled in the suffering that brings
such angelic pleasure,
begging for me to climb
between your legs,
begging for me to use you,
begging to hurt you with my hardest love.

Your loins drool, then you grunt and cry,
your agonized body gushes as I enter you
as sharply as the falls of the flogger.
The tide of your urgency overwhelms,
your body convulses, then floods and
you spasm into your deepest release
and fall into your darkest desire.
You find tender pleasure in
my harshest strokes.
You have found your blackest
release in the heavenly hurt.
You have embraced your darkest need
and found your greatest bliss
in the agony of our love.

Frenzy

by f-cynyr ©


Your moist loins
drew me in,
hardened me,
and I grew claws and fangs.

In the throes of your
hunger,
I raked nails down your
white back
and sunk my teeth
into the round of your
shoulder.

I battered your body
till it was only heat
and moisture and need.

You gasped and struggled,
trying in your fury
to buck and twist me out and
off your back.

But my claws mauled your
tender breasts
and dug through flesh
drawing gasps of urgency
and raw red furrows
down your shoulder blades.

One hand pinning your wrists,
the other buried in your
mane of red hair,
pulling your head back,
as I thrashed you from behind
with my ridged body,
until you howled in
release and your
body spasmed then returned
from our feral frenzy.

Amnesiac Skin

by f-cynyr ©

Lacking the memory and print
of hands,
your body moves through
junctures of unrequited
lust
and moments of musk
meant to cloy and snare.

Your scented skin,
amnesiac blank,
devoid of the crimson
glow of lust,
struggles to recall anxious
fingers fondling
wistful thighs
and swollen lips that
mumble surrender.

Your heaving breasts
yearn for the scorching
ghosts of firm hands
that grasp and slide,
conjuring phantom
lips that sip and suckle.

Lost in your fabrication,
wisps of hands still hold
and caress your body,
apparitions that devour
and consume your
trembling hunger.

Ghostly hands, grasping
air in bony curling fingers,
trap false memory, each
spectral tremor of
arousal, thin and transparent,
a haunted lust, relived,
and thrashed through
endlessly.

Your eyes, and body without
imprint or recollection
of musk moments,
moves through unrequited
lust,
and is left abandoned to
apparitions that leave
transparent prints on your
amnesiac skin

The Mouth of Your Body

by f-cynyr ©

The mouth of your body
chants the spell of your
allure that charms the
secrets of my name.
Your inflamed lips
roll me around and
savor the sorcery
of my swollen phallus.

Your aching hips
mouth their passions
and name the elements
that are my hands and
squeezing fingers.
Your suckling breasts
swell and throb with
the tides of fertility as
you fall enchanted under
my clasping and probing,
that sends you gasping
the secrets of my name
again and again.

Your thighs sing the hymn
of renewal for me as their
center twitches and rocks,
rubbing crackling air to ease
the bone hunger of their
drooling lips.
The mouth of your thighs
yawns and stretches, begging
to swallow my rising rigidity.

The mouth that you are,
sings and calls my secret
name that your body weaves
as spells to draw me into
the devouring witchery of your
lust, as old as the hunger of tides
and the moons of your passion.

The fertility of your
craving sings the binding
magic that enthralls my flesh
and drives our primal bodies
to dance the seeding
that is as as ancient as
the elements and as old
as the stone phallus
erected at the first lunar tide.

Your body sings its
submission to me, leaking
the tug of tides and fertility
until in the final heave
and release, creation flames
from the woven spells and magic
of our lusting bodies.

Whisper of Rope

by f-cynyr ©


My sweet selkie,
the whisper of rope
fills your eyes,
as the wrists and ankles
of your passion
long to be bound.

The answer of rope
pulls you in and
you slither and twist
till I capture your
burning submission.

Your need, so long
misunderstood,
till I tethered you.
Now the desire of bondage
flutters your heart and
throbs your moist flames.

Now you hum and sing
the kiss of cords and cuffs,
rejoicing in the submission
of collar and leash.

Your wrists weep their need
and wail for restraint,
your chest flutters and heaves
for leather.

Your hips plead to be
wrapped in rope,
crave the liberation
of binding.

Through rope and
cuffs, you finally found
a release from your
prison of longing.

Tethered

by f-cynyr ©


You soar the sharp
crisp Halloween air,
tied and tethered,
gliding with the lightness of the
unfettered breeze in this
sharp October.
Grasping the wind,
you slip, tugging and
pulling in space.
Your bondage is the freedom
that unravels your core,
unfettering you to
stretch and expand,
safe and held by
rope and ownership.

Embracing sky and restraints,
you drift in the curls
and ringlets of air,
threatening to tug
too hard, to snap
the shackles of gravity
and yank the taut line from
the Master’s hand.

Now the
terror of wind and
endless sky
recedes with the length
upon length of string
that holds you
moored beyond the
lure of the world,
knowing that the hand
that guides you is Master
of rope and wind and sky.

So, unburdened, fearless,
you sail the air
and conquer the blue,
in the tug and pull of
this Thanksgiving sky,
in the promise that you
are tied and bound
by a Master’s hand that
will hold you tethered
so you can fly.

Violate me.

by f-cynyr ©


Violate my body,
shatter my solitude,
as you break into me.
Lash the longing
of my body,
knot each passion
and tie each dark
unspoken wish.
Give voice to my
shadowed yearnings,
that lurk, dripping
to be released.
Fondle my dreams,
roll them in your mouth
till they dissolve.

Invade me,
steal my will,
cuff my wrists,
chain my ankles,
bind me with your
hypnotic rope and
unfetter me to
float into space.
Bind me to your bed,
roped to your will,
struggling just strong
enough to be held tight.

Play with my desire,
handle my thirst,
fill me with your
rigid dominance and then
flog and whip my
intimate vanity.
Fill me up and
spill over me your white
liquid gift,
then bruise my heart.
Use your rope and
ensnare my body,
tie my hands and feet,
fasten me to your hunger,
truss me to your raging need,
ligature my heart, then
stretch me across your appetite.

Draw welts across
my back,
whisper to my skin,
the pleasure of the pain.
Give voice to the
ache that twists
me to flame,
let the falls of the
flogger kiss away
my pretence.

Invade my body,
peel me down to
my throbbing submissive
center, then take away the
shedding skin.
Finally, enslave me to
set me free.

The Gift

by f-cynyr ©


I was incomplete,
I drifted and wallowed
in the empty
encounters in bleak
collisions of the thud
and smack of floggers and
paddles.
I was lost in the
hollow domination of
empty submissions, of fleeting
slaves and other impostors of
leather.

There was only boredom,
a listless time as my
eyes and hands and whips
sought more than
bare, blank backs,
of bare, blank faces.

There was despair in
my encounters,
nothing but fools and fakes
and weekend bottoms,
seeking only my
cuffs and ropes, and knots,
desiring only my flogging, and
spanking and binding.

My arm grew heavy,
my ropes grew slack,
I questioned the worth
of my mastery,
I questioned the value
of my dominance.

I was empty of the gift
that completes,
I was empty of the offering
that was beyond the asking.
I was lacking that true submissive
that would render all of her own accord.

But you, in your submission,
bowed and surrendered.
You, in your submission,
knelt and crawled
and gave to me your
very essence.

You came to me
kneeling not from
training
or punishment
or ancient house rules.

You came to me
freely bound,
bound and tied,
not by my will
or disciplining hand,
not by signed contract
or negotiation
or ritual,
not by discipline
nor the cruel strikes
of brutal training.

You came to me,
not reduced by pain
nor diminished by humiliation
nor cowered by sadism.

You came to me
and knelt and bowed
freely, willingly, lovingly.
You came to me
and rendered unto me
the gift beyond asking,
the treasure beyond taking.

You gave to me
the golden core of your
being that fulfills you in
the giving and
completes me in the accepting.

Nurture

by f-cynyr ©

You, my troubled pet,
tight and jerking with stress
and wound with grief from a
sharp cutting world.

You crawl to me,
rub against my leg,
your eyes pleading
for the strength of my hand.
and the release it would bring.

Naked across my lap,
I stretch you,
I caress that
creamy Irish ass,
circling each tender
cheek,
I twirl my finger along
the curling D that is
your brand.
Then lightly, I
wisp a smack on your
trembling bottom.

Smack, then thud,
whack, then caress,
slap, then probe
swelling lips,
the hypnotic rhythm
starting your voyage.

Each cheek twitches,
then softens,
I randomly clout
from cheek to cheek,
tenderly increasing
until your body loosens,
until you begin to flow.

Ass pale as moonlight,
then with slap after slap
it buds soft tender pink,
then blooms rose,
finally blossoming burning red.

My hands slide along
thighs, to spread
swelling lips, to
ever so slightly enter
your glistening grotto,
and then lightly
graze your nub.

Checking between swats,
moist and wet,
increasing in impact
and thud and sting.

Your breath grows rhythmic,
your body liquid,
your eyes become hooded.
You begin leaking long tendrils, and
my two probing fingers come away
drenched,
as the smacks thud
down upon red
throbbing cheeks,
until I see you tumble
deeper,
into your space.

I have brought you
to your core,
to find your inner
balance,
connected you to your Tao to
drift and float in the stream
of your self.
So then, for a while, you
are whole and complete,
my treasured selkiepet.

I then reel you in,
bring you back to my care

Still in your fugue, you are
then wrapped and rocked
and held,
your desire quenched, spirit nurtured,
you curl and rub into me
then drift safely, cherished
into a contented doze.

Polarity

A Dom friend of mine approached me knowing that I kept a bdsm poetry blog and asked if I would post some poems written by his submissive/slave moonglowkitten.
I didn't have a problem with this in fact I told him I would be happy to do so. Her poems are interesting, erotic, and from a unique perspective. So periodical
moonglow kitten will post her erotic poems on this blog.
I hope you enjoy them.
If you wish to reach moonglow you can do so using my email.


POLARITY
by moonglowkitten ©

She, on her knees,
unzips him,
fingers tripping over
themselves, tangled
in anticipation.
He, blunt,
swatting them away
like bluebottle flies.

Her mouth gapes
expectantly,
he opens his pants
with a pop.

She breathes in his scent of
creation
and fills her lungs with
the cloying musk
of his desire.
Swaddled in the
tendrils and ropes
of his ridged need,
she becomes drunk on
the captivating aroma
of his drooling
promise

He, impatient,
urgent,
yanks her hair,
and in short, quick
jabs, drives his swollen wish
into her cheeks, her chin,
finally finding her dainty
mouth.

She revels in the
sleek firmness,
her tongue tastes and
savors each subtle
flavor and nuance.
The sweet taste of him
overpowers her need,
and she floats in the
Tao of his being.
Slowly she devours each
tasty morsel, each subtle
bouquet and nuance
of cock and pre-cum.
Her tongue and lips
savor and memorize
each ridge, each contour,
each change in texture and taste,
of that loving part of him,
that he shares.

Frantically,
he shoves in and out,
in and out,
no pausing,
racing to find that final
euphoria and after-calm
as speedily as possible.
His hand tangles in her hair
and yanks, stinging her
scalp,
as he jack hammers
into her mouth.
He briefly spasms,
clutching her closer,
as he spurts
down her throat.
He trembles a few times,
waits a moment, then
done, he
rapidly withdraws.

In the midst of her
bliss,
he floods her with
his essence,
his delicious, creamy
wine,
filling the goblet of her
mouth.
She swirls the claret of him
around, savoring each
creamy, thick drop,
before swallowing
while still gorging
on the ambrosia of him,

He abruptly pulls away
zips up,
quickly pulling her to
her feet,
saying we have to go.

Speechless , still savoring
the orgasmic flavor of him,
she, feeling denied somehow,
obediently follows.

Scent of Contentment

by f-cynyr ©

The embrace becomes
a quick clutter of scurrying hands,
of frantic peeling and unmasking to
exposure and final reveal.
Urgent interrogating lips
stumble in the slide
along ripe scented skin.

Craving flows swollen hunger along
folds and mounds until
escaped passions
unfurl and
trail across tender inner thighs,
to a crease slick with
pleading.

Lips mumble and slur,
prompting tongue to swirl
nipples hardened
in the tumble to defection.

The scrabble of hands
and stutter of lips, snared and
beguiled by pleading surrender,
are released into the final reveal.

In the heart and whisper
of rapture,
the furling of limbs and hands
quenched and collected,
ease into the soft tousle
and scent of contentment.

For Blue [revised]

by f-cynyr ©

The blue bewitched me into
the yonder of awe as the
thunder tumbled me
into the burnt sky,
and eased me along the
road to the scar
between sky and wonder,
fusing the gap between I and the
world.

The winds of passing
twirled and fluttered this lone
voyager,
tethered to blue in the
fading gift of sight.
This chosen road shakes and stomps,
as I pass
with a skip of lightning.
I, roped by the twisting
sound of sky dangled in the blue
until I, in wonder, found
that capture of wind
and net of cloud
that tangles my blue in amazement.

When the moon subsides
and gives way to dark,
hope rides the convulsive night,
then kisses the slip of dawn until its
liquid promise
tied my eyes, bound
hands and voice,
and webbed into me
the crisp maybe.

I longed the throbbing night
through the tides of pitch,
until the waves and swell
subsided,
and the dewy gift of dawn
unwrapped me
into the yonder of awe
and the tendrils of thundering
blue embroider hope
into my flesh.

Then the blue of wonder,
wraps me in the treasure
of brown earth and silver storm,
till only the gift of
new blue glints through.

Taste of You.

by f-cynyr ©

I long for your taste,
for you to nestle on my tongue,
to draw you into my mouth,
to savor and swirl that opening bud.

I long for the rhythm
of your breathing
to falter, then quicken,
for you to tremble
and leak with anticipation.

To have your hands
grasping your own swelling breasts,
kneading, pulling, pinching
red swollen nipples.

I stroke you and with questing tongue
pry you open, caress
and fondle lips and folds,
as you melt and ooze
into my gaping mouth.

Hips straining down,
rhythmically gyrate with
every swish of my tongue.
Your lips glaze and part and swell.

I take long firm
strokes,
savoring each nuance as
you heave and twist
and twitch and quiver.

Your body tightens,
grows rigid
and your clenching thighs
capture me, lock me into
your ecstatic frenzy.

Your breath grows short and rapid,
you gulp
as I twirl that succulent
rosebud,
and draw you between
my longing lips.

Your body tenses, grows stiff,
I dance my tongue along
every crease and fold,
urgently lapping,
as you twist and arch.

My finger enters you
and sounds sharp and short
escape drawn lips,
as your fingers pinch and pull
nipples firmer and harder.

Hips push down wantonly,
thighs clutch tighter
and my tongue pirouettes to that
deep core of you,
right through to your center.

A sudden burst of air
escapes your lungs,
you thrash and shout and
gasp,
as you roll over that
peak and down to
the quiet rhythmic twitching
and spasmodic clenching
that my tongue relishes.

I taste your drooling bliss
and barely touch that
tender throbbing joy,
as you clasp
me to you and drift
into a satiated slumber.

My Sorrowing Selkie.

The light of the
sea,
tides from my selkies
eyes,
as she mourns
the loss of her skin.

despairing at the edge
of the reaching sea,
anxious to reclaim
what she lost,
and is rightful hers,

her urgencie mounts,
she grows restless,
moving from sea
to land,
leaking from the thousand wounds
inflicted by the holder
of her skin, and fate.

her green eyes
weep an ocean
sobbing for the
return of her skin

heart wrenched by
the world, and a
cruel master.

my selkie weeps ,
and seeks her hidden skin.

Incubus

by f-cynyr ©

A sliver of silver seeps
between the shadowed edges
of blind and window,
silvering your
round, heaving breasts
as I fondle and
toy with an engorged nipple.

I lay awake in this
silver
glow of night and
watch as
you rustle and twist
in your passion,
as your tormented
body is drawn
to my sliding
hands and probing
fingers.

In the silent, shrouded
house,
you moan and whimper
in your aroused, thin
sleep;
your thighs dream of me,
of my hands and mouth and body,
as your pelvis tilts with
wishes of lust and
wet throbbing hope.

Your eyes rapidly
dance under frail lids,
as you push your wet
dream against me
and I, stiff and inflamed,
enter you and your fantasy.
You moan and expel
a breath in the midst of
undulating blankets as
the aroma of musk
rises.

Just the other side of
sleep,
you franticly jerk and thrash,
quickening your fall
over the precipice
till breath and dreams
expel.

In the warmth
and pause of release,
sleep’s tendrils pull
you deeper,
back to your nether
world of wet repose
and throbbing urgencies.

The silver sliver
of light along the
edge of the blind spills
onto your ripe silver
breasts; I cup and gently
pinch erect nipples,
and my hands whisper
dreams to your thighs
as my fingers probe
promises into you,
as you throb and leak
in another of your
incubus haunted
nights.

Release

by f-cynyr ©

My hands flutter and flit
over the skin of your trembling
body,
my fingers slide along your pulsating skin
whispering the darkest wish of each
curve and crevasse.


The heaving and swelling of
your swollen breasts,
lustful, fall and
rise.
Engorged nipples erect, crimson and inflamed,
murmur there thirst
for lips and release.

I twist and pull,
as you hitch your
quivering breath,
and arch, then gasp,
and melt into the solitude of my hands.


The flesh of your thighs
trembles as my fingers
trace the words of your privet longing,
and continue in there pilgrimage
up the tenderest skin of your thigh,
and you surrender to your most
intimate hunger.

Your eyes flutter, then roll back,
and your pelvis tilts forward
beseeching my fingers and hand
to open the deepest bliss
within, to give voice to your concealed
lust.


Lips pouting and crimson,
glistening with you urgent desire,
open with
throbbing anticipation,
begging and praying for
the rub and push, that would give
release to all your pent up
cravings.


Hungering for hands and fingers to give you
voice to release the
secrets of your smouldering body,
and free your darkest lust.

Face Fuck

by f-cynyr ©

The glistening ‘O’ of
your mouth
surrounds me,
and slowly, inevitably,
moves along my length,
until you have taken me
completely and I have become
part of you.

I tremble with the
moist petting and caressing of
your serpentine tongue,
as you travel along my
smooth shaft, gently, lovingly,
swirling its length to the purple tip of my
being.

You fold your mouth,
and desire along the ridged
inflamed expression
of my longing.
Your lips and tongue
push me out,
then quickly suck me back,
as you rhythmically bob
from swollen tip to
ridged base and back to the tip
of my drooling shaft.

Your heated and hooded eyes
sparkle with desire and
glint with consuming lust,
as they softly gaze up
through stray red curling
wisps of hair.
As you ravishingly devour my
building need,
one delicate white hand
clasps me
at my base, holding me firm in your
intent, your other hand
floats lower to
satiate your own swollen and salivating appetite.

In unison, hand and mouth
mount to the precipice,
until the overwhelming
tightening of me
releases the feral force and I
savagely, brutally, tangle my
hands in your hair, preventing
escape and, demanding a
primal response,
slam my quivering,
pelvis into your
face.

Drool and lust lubricate your glistening
chin,
as your need opens to my pounding
and your hand fondles your
swollen crease and rubs your nub of desire,
as again and again,
I pound and thrust into
your consuming mouth.

Your eyes roll back,
you travel inward to
your primal core,
your body trembles and quakes,
between your fierce snorting,
and hoarse grunts
as you now urgently drive your
face into my groin;

opening to tumble me
into the deepest part of you,
yearning to capture and swallow my
sap, my very liquid
essence.

Hand and mouth blur
as you tremble over
the edge,
your body twitching
and heaving as your
throat
opens and takes me
in.
Primal grunts as you gulp
me down,
capturing and swallowing
my being, my very self,
as you tumble into
your own liquid essence and spasming
flood, as your other ‘O’
throbs and clenches open and closed,
open and closed, in mounting
waves.

The ‘O’ of your mouth holds
me,
as your tongue pets and strokes
the softening length of
my passion,
till flaccid,
and your ocean of waves,
subsides to a placid sea,
you satisfied, and I drained.

You release me with
a soft pop,
and smile, as your tongue
flicks to the corner
of your glossy bow lips and
licks away the last
remnants of
our elemental
selves.

Limets of the Heart

by f-cynyr ©

Your gift of skin to me
was beyond the desire of rope,
You, bruised and bloodied, whispered
my name, and draw me into
your pain and sorrows .
You came to me broken,
searching to be whole.
You longed for my hand,
and for the discipline that
you knew I had

Your eyes and mouth whispered
their longing ,and
their secret agonies.
They sang for
my loving cruelty.
You poured your sorrow into
my hands ,
and let me touch your intimate grief.
You gave me your skin, and then
you gave me your misery.

You poured your body
into my hands, and I plunged
them deep into your cruellest nightmare.
Your eyes winced with the flick
and crack of desire and anguish.
And in that twist of agony
you surrendered to me.

The cruelty of my body
whispered to yours, as each welt
remembers
the moment of my gift.
Now your heart yearns for my hand
that wields the whip.

Your bruises whimper for love,
your passions bleed their hunger for
the hurts that turn the heart,
and tortured caresses
that swells the flesh.
You mouth the words
of surrender,
beyond the limits of the heart.

You came to me broken inside,
you gave to me your skin.
You longed for my hand
and my discipline.
You longed for my darkness
and the cruelty of my heart.
And now in your surrender
you are bound to me
beyond pain, and
the limits
of the heart.

Forever Slave to Me

by f-cynyr ©

Your body softens under my hand
and your moist eyes plead for more,
as your naked back yearns for the
kiss of pain.
You jerk and spasm with every
loving stroke,
twisting and flinching as the flogger
licks and kisses your
tender and purpling skin,
which brings you trembling, to the edge.

With each stroke, your lips swell and glisten,
each crack of the leather tongues
licking white Irish flesh,
pushes you further,
deeper, into your lust.

Lost in the tingle of your body,
spiraling deeper to your
dark secret core,
my hand draws you back.
It denies you just yet that final release,
the surrender complete, each nerve moaning.
Your eyes and mouth
plead to me, longing for that forbidden zone.

You lie bound beneath my hands,
constantly begging for more,
mouthing the pain, mouthing the rapture.
In response to your whimpering plea,
my hand tenderly touches each swollen spot,
caressing each private throb.

Each stroke of the flogger,
each kissing blow brings you
closer and ties you to me.
Your wrists and ankles, bound as you are,
Bind you to me.

Your mouth calls me cruel,
but your body cries for more.

Each lash bites into you, and
your ecstasy becomes the
place I prepared for you.
Your body becomes the bruise I
created.
Your desire I whip and stroke,
and each exquisite throb pushes you deeper
into the place that you crave.

Your wounds speak my name,
they call for my hand,
and leak the love I give.

Your body is a sore beyond passion,
a pain beyond lust.
You carry the scars of my love.
You carry the wounds of my tenderness.
Your mouth calls me love,
as you wince with my kind of caress.
The dark marks of your body
are the memory of my hand and passion.

Your breasts ask for my hands to
twist and pull until
your swollen lips tremble and leak with anticipation.
As finally, brutally, tenderly,
I push you over into that final descent,
till you are,
forever slave to me.,

Your mouth calls me cruel,
But your body yearns for my love.

blow job

by f-cynyr ©

my hands tremble your body
you stand before me, open and moist,
nipples puckered and engorged with lust and anticipation
craving the sharp short electric charge
that rolls you to gasp
and tremor

longing for more,
mouth agape, lips slick and swollen
they glisten with fervor and wanting.

In your flowing delirium,
You drop to your knees,
Penance of you lust and devotion
Eyes glazed, face as pure as light,
You take the flesh jewel in pious clasp hands
Longing and praying for my
Pure white eruption.

Hoping to capture ecstasy
In you mouth, and swallow the sacrament.

You meld and become one with the flesh,
Surrendered to the driving rhythm
Of urgency;
Your lips, slick and eager, tighten,
You serpentine tong curls and
Thrashes in excitation, mumbling a prayer.

As urgency crests to the final blinding release,
And I topple, entwined with you,
Spent and released;
With my discharge your fulfillment
Is complete.

Discipline and Pleasure

You slithered, trembling and panting,
onto my lap
naked and enthralled,
filled with
trepidation and throbbing
electric expectation.

Your ass pure vanilla white,
bare, clenched in anticipation.
Passion and a deep soulful longing
had driven you to me,
but lust had made you crawl,
and a longing for the hand of
discipline made you stay.

Now across my knees,
you wished for release,
You wished for punishment;
To me you had surrendered
Crawled to my feet,
and begged for my collar;

Structure, and commands,
a leash and a crop to keep you safe.
punishment was what you craved,
a spanking was what you require.

Smack after smack,
moving from sting to arousal,
after the foreplay
and before the welts
each cheek began to glow.
to radiate the lust that you
squirmed to release.

Your body twitched and trashed;
rubbing and jerking,
trying to ease the itch
beyond the scratch.
Smack after smack
harder and harder,
louder, thudding and cracking.
each cheek glowing, radiating ;
Every so often between strikes,
Checking the heat, and the wet;
Starting to ooze with each blow.
Dribbling by the end,
squirming in anticipation.

You longed to transcend,
you desired it all,
but I knew the borders,
I knew the edge.
I knew to draw you back.
To make you wait.
To make you beg.

Flushed and peaked
eyes half shut with the hunger
I flipped you from knee to bed.
In an instant and a gasp I was in you.

Then a slither down your twitching body
tonguing you to thrashing explosion,
I had forever linked
Discipline with pleasure.

Sunrise Denied

You new soul,
soulless in your
shadows and desperation,
longing to capture ghosts
beyond bone and halos
of light..
Yet that halo promise has wizened
in fingers and beseeching palms.
Light vacant eyes, mumble there sunrises
denied., in there dark passage
from flesh to ghost,
and find no one beyond
the rage of rain,
and the murmur of the suckling sea.

You soulless soul sing the hymns of
longing sea,
of deliverance from dust and
wakeless sleep.
So the fladulating eyes
peel the flesh , and bare the ghost
that sleeps curled in the
kneeling faith.
Along the lapping shore line
there howling and lamentations
awakes the moon , and tides,
embracing earth and loss.

But sea and moon
sleeps as one in the
torment of promises, and
promises denied.
The sea shifts and twists
to the sorrowful journey
and phases of the moon.
Until the tongue gives births
to sound, and hope.
The slow crawl of words,
tames rock and tree and sky,
words that capture a forest of choes,
tamed the upheaval, and illuminated
the once blank sky.
But now loss slips the tongues
that hold there peace,
and flounders in the devouring silence
as the hand of lunar light
gently baths the wounds
of the world .

Those wondering
lost in the sallow glow,
cry there faith to
an alien sky,
that rains nothing
but sharpened light
and empty wind,
find anguish in
a bottomless sleep.

The desert of the
flesh sleeps the sleep
of loss of harp, and paradise misplaced
as they twirl between
a silent sky,
and a devouring sea.,
longing to find the
world again.
Yet ghost is promise broken
only sea and rage of rain,
suckles flesh to dust,
and silences ,
the hymn of longing,
yet promises sunrise
renewed,
and sleep with
an awakening.

5 Kings Row.

we found our I am
in the gap between
the doing and the losing,
those days
of 5 kings row, we were
lost in the fright of
possibilities,
and wayward in the link
of causal conjunctions,

those borrowed walls
and spaces ,
blinked
the tremble of our deeds
and lost motion.
we found the inert instant
as the world skipped, and wobbled
the trepidation from our eyes
and sweating hands.

the heat of folded crisp
nights ruffeled
the staggering of our intent,
and the momentum led us
to this point of
reflection and mortification.

that summer of night,
the stream
that bubbled throw us quenched
our desire.
the babbling voices
that tangoed along toung
and splintered thought,
raged as
we stumbled the halos
of youth,
rocketing from fresh
to weary in one burnt
summer.

the disease of knowage
shivered our risk, numbering
our doors, inside and out
as they unlocked and locked.

our craving acked
the new skin in mid lust ,
and our dewy hesitation was a
choice. in our pause no bi focal
could unravel the
knots of our fate,

only time,
and the slow curing of
flesh,
and moon
could light through
the murk,
that boiled through our
days and dares,

distance gulped us whole,
some like Blair,
never tripped into time,
but fell instead to dust.

the miles of days and ground,
diminish, now near the end,
but sleep does come,
ragged,
at times sharp as a razor,
others,
as smooth as a breast,

and we lull to sleep,
and in so doing
release the world
to unfold and right
its self
from the wobble
we shook,

the causal chains
unclasp, for a brief
reprieve,
and release,
till the slow
curing of flesh
and we grow weary
of our I ams,
and breath the dust
of instead,
and before sleep
longingly drift to the
ash covered summer
of 5 kings row.
,

For Blue

The blue anguished me into
the yonder of grief and
ozone of despair,
the thunder tumbled
along the burnt sky,
and eased along the
road , to the scar
between sky and earth,
bleeding the gap between I and the
world.

the wind of passing,
twirls and flutters this lone
voyager,
and the road shakes and stomps,
as I pass
in the skip of lightning
roped in the twisting
sound of sky, and drip of blue.

liquid blue noosed me,
surrounded, and ties my eyes, bound
hands, and voice,
and webbed the crisp maybe
into me.

I longed the crashing night for you,
until the waves and swelling
subsided,
and the blue, unwrapped me
from the yonder of certainty,
and the tendrills of
thunder embroidered you
into my flesh.

until, the blue of you,
wrapped me,
in brown earth, and silver storm,
till only
new blue glinted through.

Kierkegaard's leap

i felt your eyes
deflate,
lids droop, light leaked out.
your chest heaved.


the crackle and hiss of the
fire, noosed your marble eyes
and tumbled you into the
flames.

your eyes now opaque,
trailed the smoke as it swerls and dips
its tango to oblivion,
from the twitching flaims.

across the vast gulf of
darkness and silents,

i reached.

my dispair,
absorbed the silents
swallowed the darkness.

my tremmering fingers,
traced the frail dry lines of your hand.

seeking solace, warmth,
attempting to collapse the vastness
between us.

i felt your hand
empty,, expire, with a shiver
of sorrow, and a tremble of
resignation.

your eyes and hands opaque,
as the expanse
swallows us.

i desperate and anxious
lept.

Epiphany

You, under my hand,
become more than skin and tingle and
moist throb, more than wish and promise and
spasming possibility.
You become new, and each
unraveling of you,becomes the trembling
unfolding of wonder and mystery.

You, under me,
becomes that urging moment
that drives my flesh to
swell and expand
and enter into you.

You, under my hands,
unfold, swell and drip anew,
as if my hand shave never known
those warm secreted places that draw me in

You surround me in you,
and for the moment, the moment
blurs and streaks,
and blurs in the pull
till the final
spasming of wonder.

You, under me,
becomes more than you under me.
Your unraveling becomes araveling of us both.
Skin and nerve, once dormant,
shakes alive and strums and hums,
till the opening and unfolding of
your shrouded mystery.

You, under me,
holding me moist and tightand warm,
in the crease of your being,
and your pulling and squeezing
in the surround that you are
swells me beyond me into you.
Then
one final epiphany
and you swallowing tenderly that
fleeting piece of me
that your mystery awakened.

Tempist

out of the white blinding
tempest
you came to me;
you lent forward, through my indecisions,
into me,
and out of the storm.

i hung suspended from my self,
lost in a noose of smoke and doubt;
betrayed by knots and breath.

the snow blinded me, and still
i walked beyond the blizzard and frost,
into and out of a numb, futile quest.

i came back stinging,
skin washed out
eyes split, blinking loss and
ash.

but you without snare,
captured me, with
eyes of spring,
and palms that sprouted allure.

the sad story of my selkie

you came from the twisting convulsive sea,
from waves shattering on rocks,
you appeared there on the desolate shore

sleek, skin glazed,eyes leaking sea, and loneliness
you shivered,
and shed your dark slick sea skin.

you left your fin folk, your home,
your fate,
for the longing of me.

on knees, body aching and stinging,
from a new world that cut like sheets of broken stones,
you offered your skin to me.

i in ignorance, turned away,
scared you with an indifferent heart,
bloodied you with silence.

you suffered beyond mortal pain,
beyond the agony of the loss of sea,
beyond the gift of your very skin.

you ponder, skin partially slipped on,
you waver in the maelstrom,
red hair streaming,
eyes leaking,
wounds still oozing cruelty of tongues,
and selfishness of an ignorant heart.

the fin folk clutch at your feet
when the waves break upon you.
yet now, i understand that gift of skin
from my selkie,

now to late,
as the sea takes her.
and i stand 
sea braking against me,
eyes leaking,
wounds oozing,
aching in a world of sheets of broken stones,

the gale swallows my cry and plead for return,
and redemption.

the storm raged,
waves broke on the rocks
the shore remained desolate

my selkie

now on the precipice of the sea
red hair twisted in the rage and despair
my selkie weeps, into the sea.

eyes devoid of spring,
only barren winter laying over the irish green.

still the fin folk call her name
singing of the comfort and release that the sea will give her,
and the escape that she desires.

spray stings her face,
whether sea or tears, her eyes leak both.

heart snapping, bloodless from to many leaking wounds.

skin in hand, tightly embraced,the storm rages.
and she sways in the gale,
skin in hand,
longing to slip into it,
and into the healing embrace of the sea.

twist

all the bones that i know,
and in the loss of sea, and air
you , your body radiating beyond me,
the twist of air and raging tsunamis,
and i lost in the suckle of you breast.
the heat of your hand upon my head holding me ferm
pressing into your breast
i groaning, and longing for more,
you mone and gasp in your sleep.
finally my mouth releases and we turn to sleep.