Her black-booted foot pressed my chest. Cautiously I looked up her leather-corseted body to the stern face. I winced as the lash trailed across my shuddering skin. “Beg forgiveness, slave!” she ordered. Helpless, I cringed as she frowned at my bound body. Then she winked. This was going well.

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in the silence
my head
rests on her naked

our breath


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Hot pink petals
in full bloom
swelling colors
sharing its smell

closing my eyes
I breathe in
letting the petals
brush my lips,

twisting the stem
slowly, savoring
every moment
as I hand you
a single rose

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Drench bodies in kisses
as our desires linger,
Sparking a new trail
of delight within us.

You master in the art
of love making, keeping me
satiated and breathless.
Sensual scents tease our
noses, warm oils to soothe,
hot wax to tantalize.
Igniting flames of

Together we weave
our own fantasies into
a delectable reality.
Riding waves of euphoric
bliss, consumating our
inhibition’s freedom

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Loving you

How my thoughts
are racing so…
I just whispered aloud –
“I love you…”,
and have the softest feeling –

You ‘get’ to me so damn easy…
I don’t know or understand why
or how –
you just do.
It’s because…
somehow… we… belong.
I know…
silly me.

I melt at some awkward times
and just shake my head at others.
But I want to hold you so tight
and make love to you
and hold you close afterward
and make love to you
and just ‘be’ with you
and love you.

Love…the thoughts that just race by
physical… mental…
my stomach’s a big knot
and I want to sing,
smile… just laugh…
shake it off…
but can’t.

I want you curled with me,
around me,
on me.
I want to be in you –
a part of you…
held so very tight and close…
and never let go.
I want to touch you,
mentally, physically…
and more –
so much more.
I want to play
and ‘be’
as only we can.

How my thoughts
are racing soooo…
such is the beginning
of ‘loving’ you…
silly me.

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Torn sheets

How can one be capable
of such destruction? The winds
were gentle at first, building

force from the heated earth
until they began to spin us out and out
into a whirl of pleasure.

In the center of the storm, tenderness
suddenly passed over our bodies
like a false blessing,

for the trailing winds were worse
and finally nothing was left of the moment
but a devastated bed.

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Open Window

Through her open window
The wind whirls around and wraps her frame
With her hands held down in soft places
Where I wished I had stayed just that much longer
Deeper down in her memory of touch

Dampen with a foggy night’s cold heat
That draws out each moment
Slap lapping back to tall grassy shore
As she held my face between nude dunes
Drawing me deeper down between her memories

She says she hears wolves howling
Lingering in lingerie
Her body bent toward the heat building inside
Increase the beats, finger taps
With wet drumroll in four four

Through her open window
The wind tears aside wistful curtains
Drawn in light night gown walls
So we see the soft curved line of desire
Arousing, broody in wet recesses of the mind

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