Violence In Sex

There’s a violence in sex,

That’s hard to explain.

A hand squeezing your throat,

Yet it arouses not pains.

You like being thrown down,

And used fucking hard.

Sometimes that isn’t acceptable,

In the wider world it’s barred.

I’d happily ask you,

To whip my bare arse.

But if it was true punishment?

I’d never want that vote passed.

So, we live in a world,

Where passions contradict.

I’m so glad they do,

For sex should be varied, never ever fixed.

Let It Go!

I will plant the notion, the gnawing thought,

A subliminal trap set, in which you’re caught.

You will be aching, struggling to hold tight,

Endeavouring to stay composed, trying as you might.

But then I want you to fail, to lose that control,

I want you to give into the suggestions that I’ve sold.

I want the fire stoked, to rage out of control.

I want you to fall into lust, to let your soul go.

In Life’s Game

Like a spider stalking her prey,

Each movement carefully thought out.

Eyes on her prize led on the bed,

She’ll feed she has no doubt.

Slowly climbing over him,

Limbs lengthened in dim light.

Lips brushing down his chest,

Excitement overload he fights.

His phallus swollen, risen for her,

As she squats to tease with wet warm lips.

Rubbing her essence o’er his cock,

With deft motion of her hips.

Her want as needy as his it’s true,

Her desire just as high.

But she has control of this morsel now,

As onto his sex she slides.

A gasp in union,

Both release held pent up breaths.

Predator and prey as one,

In life’s game, not death’s.