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| Blogs > rm_Roryardri > quandry |
Songs from the Life
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Songs from the Life Branding We sip our drinks, a drop of juice settles at the corner of your lip. You know it I know it You know I know it. Our eyes touch, and slowly, I lean closer, my hot tongue reaches with infinite care to trace the soft curve of your lip, to taste the juice….. to draw the warm liquid within and savor it …… I nibble your lip, my finger finds the pebble of your nipple and rolls it with just a touch of pain, I feel your body strain to get closer, or away, you cannot say you know my rules, your eyes remain closed as I draw off your robe… is there a part of you I do not long to taste… I will leave you remembering my tongue in places where no man has dared, and when you touch yourself, as I know and you know you will, you will feel my touch, my tongue my will..... R I love the way your breath will catch when rising from Morphean arms to sense my gaze upon naked charms knowing how much I love to watch; Feigning sleep, your fingers slowly glide across nipples stiffening to the nails across the pink areolae, the finger trails. and I smile to watch those sweet fingers slide; across sleep warm skin, over naked mound and through the pouting, moistening open lips questing, thrusting, hungering finger tips... and I rise, now fully risen, and without a sound. Between those thighs my knees descend harshly my mouth takes command of your breast as my fingers follow on their own sweet quest, and my body declares your game at an end. As I spread your legs with a casual ease my knob enters to probe and prepare the way then, deeply thrust to say, here I stay and shining eyes proclaim, 'take me as you please.' I Smile The spun silk of my blouse glides across my back each stripe of your cane a fiery track and I smile, even as I shift in my chair to ease the burning there and You know I treasure each line a source of pleasure and a passion I have never known in that life before, when I was but one, alone..... Good friends take note of what they call my secret smile that comes and goes or lingers, yet, a while as work and worries seem to simply fade in the glow of the joy Your love has made. They do not understand that warm, embracing calm As strong hands caress the burning with the balm of Your love and my surrender to those moments fierce and tender that radiantly render U/us to O/our world apart, and joy/love fills O/our heart. It is Done She smiled the music was old when I was young tho the singer was younger than I I felt her awareness apart in our own world we were royalty as royalty might have been. We finished our drinks the wine sang with joy in our blood On the ride to her place she drew my hand beneath her skirt to feel the wetness I traced the dampness of my fingers across my lips. At her place she lit the candles while I showered, then I set the stage while she made herself ready slowly, I bound her hands and her lovely feet, I paused at each step to capture the moment the blindfold was the worst, she would often say, I kissed her eyelids then put them away.. the razor sharp blade, cold and bright touched now her hip, or her breast now her cheek ... not the face .. and her whimper soft and muffled by the gag became the sound of my universe and the warm skin under the cold edge was all the world I knew. the minutes passed, time became lost in itself softly my lips touched upon a weal, a pearl of red blood then the trail of a blood red tear drop from her soft white breast travelled in silence and all that we had been was done, and in that drop of blood our love was born. T H E V I S I T Time is suspended, as I watch you sleep, the subtle rise of sleep warm breasts shifting the shadows of your satin gown. I can almost taste your scent on the still night air I breathe and I smile.... Moving closer, I lay the long-stemmed rose across the enticing rise of your moon-kissed breasts how closely the petals match the dusky rose of your gown. You stir, and the thorn catches on your skin deeply, you breathe in and a small, bright crimson droplet wells upon your breast. My tongue aches to press that scarlet dew..... but I wait. I know that your are aware of me.. I marvel that you can sleep at all for the thundering of my heart.... your soft lips part.... Your head tilts back offering that soft fragile throat, I stroke the skin with the petals of your flower, as I see the tip of your sweet tongue touch upon lips gone dry... If you awaken, it ends.... consumed by the night a moment too right to be My hand moves the flower touches the still moist droplet, and I take a part of you away..... T H E L A D Y ‘ S D E S I R E Three hours until You are here. I shiver to feel the seconds run through my veins, joy races with fear, for that which cannot now be undone. My mind reels from the realization I flush with the daring of my deed torn between pride and self-loathing bolstered by the truth of my need. Slowly, gently with consummate skill this willing lamb was led to altar Your patience making each choice easy as this one freely donned the halter and surrendering freedom, freely, this one learned to follow Your will finding joy in the moment of surrender that no arrogant choice could fulfill. You have made me a vessel of your being and in reflecting you I find release, in anticipating your need, your hunger, I find the source of my own peace. Then you introduced me to the cat. that soft and well-worn touch of leather the kiss that burns and arouses, or traces with the breath of a feather. Patiently You taught me to love the lash to welcome its secret delight the warm sweet burn that holds me when you are away in the night. In Your absence I have only to glance at the drawer in the bedside stand where your cat rests warm and alive, and I feel the strength of your hand. I am never alone, when the smell of the leather , oiled from my skin lies on the pillow beside me , and I shudder at the depth of my sin. The smallest of imperfection a strand of your precious toy, possesses my mind and my soul and gives me a secret joy. You are gone from me more often, though I know that is no excuse, but the moments are pain past enduring; loneliness singular abuse. Then , with fevered fingers burning I sever that short brown strand, and it lies like a flower dying in the trembling palm of my hand. I clench it in my fist tightly my fingers bite into my hand eyes closed I savor the scent of that singular passionate strand Might this very small piece of leather be one and the very same that left that small scar so high on my thigh that carries Your secret name? How often has this feathery finger my most private places caressed that lies so warm in my fingers now to my lips is pressed… Then trembling with anticipation I grasp a lock of my hair that has given You such pleasure and tie this dark ribbon there, It’s blessed scent and substance now a solemn part of me and a silent form of confession, that I know Your eyes must see. I don my softest silken robe perfumed as you wish me to be and kneel in wait by the door for your smile to set me free. Time has no meaning in this moment, it is a burden too onerous to bear. I allow myself to become just she who is waiting there. Eyes downcast , form un moving, I hear Your key in the door. with a slowness that defines all being, your shadow crosses the floor. I feel your gaze upon me as palpable as any caress as intimate as all timeless lovers beyond the need to undress. Then your fingers reach out. You touch the lock of hair. I know that You know the binding you see there. Time stands beyond stillness, even beyond the scope of breath with a tension that steals my life away I surrender to the hold of this death. Then almost gently, you untie that strand, I feel the hair fall on my cheek I cannot look into your eyes I cannot bring my lips to speak. There is a silence that is not broken by the gentle sadness of your sigh, but weighs on in a pain of longing as I feel tears burning my eyes. Bile burns in my gullet, my heart bursts in my chest, pain in a longing now denied is a horrible weight on my breast. As I hear your voice in my heart words you do not speak aloud Did I think this would give You pleasure? Did I think this would make You proud? And I realize , too late, in the waking, that in my selfish foolish need I had committed a terrible and totally self serving deed. I feel you walk away. You have no need to say. Tears quietly streaming, I go to my room, alone. I had no right, so had lost all right, to touch what was Yours, alone……. Rory………………………… MAN MENSES MENSA I wake to the cool, fresh touch of an early May Morning breeze The warmth of you behind me the coolness on my face , I smile. Then, subtle, and soft , a sensation more subconscious, so to speak, banishes sleep from my mind. I turn in bed, raising the sheet, your white cotton panties make me smile. Breathing, deeply the warm musky scent of you, I surrender myself wholly to the moment, consumed by the sensations and the promise. My finger reaches out, my finger nail, lightly scrapes the pebbled surface of your aureole, I smile to see the nipple rise to the occasion. Capturing the nipple in my teeth, I bite softly but firmly, as my fingers trace that soft tender place by the side of your ribs and I feel you move and I hear you sigh, “You … bastard..”, but the smile in your voice and the settling of your hips offers sweet surrender. I slide the panties off your lovely legs, losing them forever in the sheets. Our lips touch then attack each other with rising passion our tongues caught up in a timeless dance. My hand caresses your ass, as my lips touch your eyes, your neck, the hollow of your shoulder, your hands caress my back wanting to hold me, and to push me, lost in your own indecision….. Sliding between your warm soft thighs savoring the moment …. my tongue reaches out to part the layers of that flower, the blood of your flow, a taste, a smell, a presence that alters all and becomes the altar of all being. You cry out as your nails bite into my neck, deeply. Driving me, compelling me, Your thighs quiver with your need as my thirst is slowly slaked and I rise to kiss your lips, your blood, your juices, your essence on my lips as I thrust deep within that menstrual maelstrom and feel your teeth biting into my neck and I thrust and drive as though I would enter your forever…. Later, lying still the skin of my manhood sticking in the drying to the warmth of your thighs, I am lost in your eyes, as you sofly whisper, why? It is a moment like no other belonging only to itself. You will not tell others. Who would understand? You lick the droplets of blood that ooze from your teeth marks, and I feel myself rising….. as you feel my self rising, and you smile…….. Rory….. N I C E P A P E R W E I G H T Upon my desk, sealed, forever, in a lucite moment a single deep red rose, just past it pinnacle point, when maturity has softened and curled the red petalsin a smile of sweet reminiscence. And , along the stem , the longest, sharpest thorn bears proudly that secret shadow where you drew it to your breast, and with a smile like no other drew forth that scarlet pearl, that drew my lips and sealed our kiss, forever….. |
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