Only When I Am Ready

Erotica, R-18+

First
We will simply talk
Then
We will flirt
Finally I will give you a look
That look
The look
This will cause you to pause
Your heart will beat faster
You will take a breath
And bite your lip
And fall under my spell
I will lead you to the bedroom
And tell you to undress
Slowly
You will comply
Then
I will just look at you
All of you
Appreciating you for the work of art that you are
I will compliment you
Highlighting the parts of you
That are most appealing to me
In turn
Cataloging every inch
Of your skin
I will instruct you to pose for me
Using my words alone
To manipulate your body
Into the perfect expression
Of sexuality
You will beg me to touch you
You will want to move
You will want to play
But you will have to wait
For there are many poses I wish to see you in
And we have a lot of time on our hands
You will give me that bratty glare of yours
Cute
Cheeky
Playful
Tempting
But ultimately unsuccessful
I am not ready yet
You must wait
And pose
Exactly as I tell you
Then
When my eyes have had their fill
I will come close
Then closer still
I will take your scent
Breathing in everything that is you
Breathing in every part of you
Fully
And completely
Finally
It will be time to play
But I won’t touch you as you want
Not just yet
No
You must wait
First
It will be a fingertip
Softly
Delicately
Across your body
And down your neck
Tracing your natural lines
I will use my fingers to see
What my eyes have already seen
Then
I will use my tongue
To taste you
Softly
Sparingly
Choosing where to take my sips
I don’t want to get drunk on you
Not yet
Not until I am ready
You will be asking
Pleading
Begging for more
But you will have to wait
I tell you as such
I will tell you that things will happen
If and when I am ready for them to happen
Then
I will sit you down
And hold your hair
And your throat
And squeeze
Not too tightly
But tight enough
I will tell you to open your mouth
Wider
And to poke your tongue out
Then
I will place the tip
Just the tip of my cock
On you
You are not allowed to move
Or lick
Or suck
No
Not yet
You must wait
I will circle your lips
I will glide across your tongue
I will choose to enter you
Briefly
Telling you to cover me with you spit
Then
I will turn you around
Putting you on all fours
And tell you
To open up
And
To look back
And to be ready
Because when I take you
I will take you with such an intense passion
That we both will be swept away in the moment
I tell you that it’s time
That you are allowed to cum
And then
Then I enter you
Deeply
Firmly
Repeatedly
You push back
And I push forth
Again
And again
And again
Finally when I am ready
I stop you
And tell you
To tell me
That you want me to cum
I tell you
To tell me
Where you want me to cum
Then
And only then
Do I allow myself to release
Giving you
What you wanted from me
In every
Single
Way…
Only when I am ready

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This poem is from the book, Kink, Volume 3.

Read more from the collection, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Here Lies My Head

There’s something wrong with my head,
Chaos overwhelms when I pull the thread.
Nothing’s real and my rationality’s fled.
When I turn inwards and face the dread.
Mental landmines impact my tread,
Realisations growing like bacteria bred.
Answers to questions best left unsaid.
Like how come what happened in that bed,
Is less confronting than what was said?
Or why you were all silent whenever I plead,
Whenever I withdrew, and whenever I bled?
Or who would I be were I not shred?
Dead or alive, it all feels the same,
My vision clouded red.
Fed lies and shamed, misled and blamed.
Instead of love I was led into fear.
Crossbred reality with fiction, with you the godhead.
My anger disparaged, an outburst unread, just a hothead,
Stoking the fire of my heart, molten lead.
Left me burning, a stomach warhead.
Left me confused, with no cred
‘Ability to explain my pain, or why I spread
Myself around for anyone’s gain, or why I wish for anything else instead.

It’s time for a re-tread. To face the dread of the bed and what was said. To destroy the godhead, to pull the thread, to get out of my head, to retract the mislead, to remove the lead, to heal where I bled, to put onto the page all that’s unread, and to forgive the boy who couldn’t have fled.

Here lies my head.

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This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.