I hear music in your moans
And rhythm in our bodies
Cause my body to move with yours
Dance with me, naked in the moonlight
Show me how you shake and gyrate
My hips canโt stay still
When your music moves me
Body Music
Being an ally
Sometimes what we need is not an ally but a friend.
Not every person needs every person to be an ally at all times. Sometimes it is more helpful to be a friend than an ally. I say this as a visible minority writer but not out of being a visible minority writer. Nor do I speak for all visible minorities, minorities in general or people in general. Iโm not trying to be the spokesperson for anyone but me. But I would hope that you can take what I say and apply it to others where propper or at the least take a moment to think.
I will say we all need allies. Minorities especially precisely because we are minorities. Being a minority means being in the lesser number of a group, this by definition means having less allies than another group. Having allies helps when the odds are stacked against you or even with the odds in your favor; it means youโre not alone or your group is not by itself. This can help in verifying that youโre on the right path.
Not everyone who is with you can be an ally though. And not everyone you support needs you to be an ally. Allies fight together. If you canโt fight, having you as an ally does not do much good. Allies go to battle together, go to war together. If you are only an ally when the stakes are low or if youโre only an ally for a moment youโre not much of an ally.
Friends are different. Friends are there for you when the fighting ends. Thatโs not to say friends canโt be allies. If all your friends arenโt your allies and vice versa you might want to take a look at your relationships but you can have some allies that arenโt your friend and some friends who are not your allies, at least not in every fight.
Iโm not everyoneโs ally. Iโm not even a lot of peopleโs ally. I can be a lot of peopleโs friend or at least friendly to a lot of people, which is almost as good, especially these days. I am not going to fight all the battles with you, even if I agree with you. And this may be a shock but sometimes I donโt agree with people. Sometimes even with people I am friendly with. Many people are looking for allies, someone to go in the trenches with, their ride or die; especially on social media, where the price of fighting is not that high. Iโm not that guy most of the time. I have my own battles Iโm fighting, Iโm not a big fight guy, also many of the fights or the way youโre fighting are not that significant. Yes, I agree with your right to do and be you, no I donโt need to shout at some guy over the computer, no I donโt need to socially isolate them. Those are not battle tactics I see as being real difference makers. So, no, Iโm not your ally in this fight.
Now I can be your friend. I can help you commiserate over the amount of assholes in the world. I can listen to your point of view and agree where I agree and respect our differences. I can offer a distraction or amusement. I can bring a smile to your face. Friend type things.
I know you arenโt going to be there for my every battle as well. Our circles are small, a tight knit group or various tight knit groups bound by our love of a singular event/opinion/characteristic. These are my allies. You, you are my friend. You are the one I can share a joke with. I can count on you for a random like. Youโll read my bullshit with a smile.
You are someone I need. Not an ally, but a friend.
A sexy story with something for everyone including an actual story! On Amazon or your favorite online bookseller.
The Dream
Twisting, turning, hot passion in the night. Alone but together. They reach towards each other the miles separating them torn apart by the dream. Their touch is fire, hot and burning. The ice running through their veins sending steam in the air. They are hot and cold, heat and cool, opposites attracted by more than magnetism, stronger than any pull.
Her lips touch his and they burn and burst, his tongue slides in her mouth and floods her with emotion. She reaches and pulls him into her. They merge and are one. Their bodies move with a mind of it’s own. Animal instinct fueled by human intellect charged with powerful emotion. Suns shine cold in comparison to their radiation.
His hands on her neck, followed by his kiss. She turns taking him, guiding him flowing beneath his hands as he takes her where she needs to be. He fills her even though he isn’t there. He holds her in his heart, in a warmth, a cradle, a protection of love, where she fits like no other. She’s made herself not at home but made it part of her.
He sees her as she is and sees light. Beauty fades as he looks in her eyes. He sees neither old nor young but eternity. He longs to spend eternity looking in her eyes, holding her hand. She looks back and sees the reflection of him in her eyes. He is her vision. The sight she sees is him. In the sky, the trees, the city line. They are him, he has taught her to see, opened her eyes, shined in her world. She closes her eyes and sees him. The depth of him. His soul.
The light fades through the morning and they retreat from the dream. Her body tingles with the touch of his fingertips. His body aches with his need. Their conscious floats then they sink into each others respective homes. This corporal shell this fragile place. She looks. He’s lying beside her again. She closes her eyes and sleeps.
Lesson to Learn
(Lesbian Spanking)
The curve of her ass appeals So soft and round with delight The joy I feel reveals Under my hands I squeeze โYour ass is mine tonight.โ Your eyes so soft gaze Up into the brown of mine โMake me squeal.โ you beg. My answer, a grin I give, โIt would be my delight.โ Our lips they touch soft Then hard hunger escapes I bite and pull Your tongue it snakes looking For mine We moan. Over my knee I lead you there The swell of your ass bare in the air Bare hand or paddle I ponder As you breast press against my leg You wiggle and whimper Your eyes they beg โShould I risk my nails?โ I ask in mock disdain Though the heat that flows from between my legs Iโm sure you feel โA paddle for sure would make me squealโ Tsk. Tsk. Question, not asked for your answer This you know. Not your first rodeo. โGo get the gag.โ Your eyes wide with fright Or is that merely merriment and delight? You kneel between my legs Your back to my front Head high with anticipation, Proud submission The curve of back is such a seductive delight My painted nail drags between your shoulder blade My breath a whisper in your ear I clasp the gag โYour ass is mine My dear delight To turn pink Then red so bright.โ Now over my knee I direct again My hand it is Though paddle is close at hand A soft caress of your soft behind So round and plump So proud and divine One squeeze then two before A smack! Then three! The blush of heat Rises degree by degree Your moans muffled as your ass you raise Your desire for more belies your pain Give to me what is mine by right The right of wrongs done in anticipation Of correction My hand finds your flesh The sound A hymn we both praise Wetness builds between my legs With each strike and cry The heat of your struck behind Matches the heat of the furnace between my legs Waiting to be stroked, Stoked, by your tongue The heat burns too bright for my gentle hands to handle My passion burns too hot to sit tight Get up! On the bed! I pull you off my lap, Soaked with our mixture of delight To throw you face down Pressed into our place of rest A den of debauchery Covered in 1000 thread count Your ass, hot pink, hangs over the side Paddle in hand Swing and connect Squeels elicit fly from your lips Escape from your throat Cantillate my ears Invoked by wood on cutis What once was pink Now flames in red Eyes once dry with worry Flow in tears; rivers of relief Desire once bundled within Engulfs us, an inferno My flesh no longer contained in cloth Naked to the air My hands grip your hips I push labia dew covered Onto the swell of your derriere Our combined fires offer soothing fuel Slick sheen glazes your honeyed buns As guttural moans cry out I need your sweet lips on me Crawling onto our bed I pull you into my delta of flame Mouth released to feast Fill me as you feed Your tongue, your lips, Your skill, your talent Your passion, desire and love Each swipe and lick Each suck draws me in Satisfying the hungry fire deep inside me As you give all to me I can feel myself burn and turn to ash Floating as smoke upon our loverโs pyre I release And float away Laying in each otherโs arms Smiles and arms embrace Gentle caress of fingers I hope you learned your lesson? Oh yes My Ass Is Yours Always
Free Books!
I’ve hit 3,000 followers on Twitter and to celebrate I’ve put 2 of my books as free.
I’ve hit 3000 followers on here and to celebrate I’ve put two of my books for free on Amazon. Let’s Go Outside https://amazon.ca/dp/B087FZ7T3V and After the kids are put to bed https://amazon.ca/dp/B08CY7Z2NN until 6/20! Thanks so much for the follows!
Ocean Fire’s Kiss
Turn around, let me see The fire in your eyes The double sun setting in the sea. As I admire your curves Twists and turns Driving full speed ahead. An undeniable body language Chemistry was conducted Causing sparks between two souls wind high in their sails. Waves crashed on land Settling beneath our feet Toes bury in water soaked sand Just as our lips are buried within each other. Kisses wet with desire Hold our breath captive Beneath the ocean of our love On the shore I wait Longing for the tide to return you to my arms. Desire is the fire burning. A wildfire blazing in the night. On the shore water meets land Steaming yet never quenched Burning higher ever bright Our bodies are set alight Unable to control urges of pure delight Willing to take a chance at intimate passion We seek solace in each otherโs eyes Deeply Seductively Itching with temptation Aching with anticipation Let our lips kiss beneath the pale moon As we embrace in a lovers flame
This was a collaboration between myself and @kitkatpoetess on Twitter. Follow her on Twitter for more fantastic poetry and fiction or check out her page at: https://katrinalippolis.weebly.com/
Fornication’s Fire is a collection of 30 erotic poems that feature thoughts and actions dealing with fornication. An act of passion, desire, duty, even resignation. All aspects of sexual intercourse are looked at in this hot and fun collection of poems.
My Short Sweet One
Short and sweet Smile in her eyes Her ass in my hands She looks up in love My short, sweet one I look over her But canโt overlook her Her heart so big Her legs so small My short sweet one They say good things Come in small packages I plan to be Her good thing tonight My short sweet one.
One Night Stands
I’ve never had a one night stand. I have a story that involves a one night stand. It’s an unexpected but not so unexpected one night stand. One night stands have had a reputation of being somewhat controversial; especially for women. The dichotomy of reactions is strange considering in a heterosexual relationship it takes a man and woman but nothing new about double standards there.
A lot of the stigma about one night stands is the prudishness of sex in general and the taking advantage of expectations. If one person goes in knowing that there is no hope or desire for anything more than one night of sex and the other goes in thinking that there may be the opportunity for more then there is an obvious miscommunication at best at worst manipulation and exploitations.
I can see the appeal on one hand. Itโs a quick opportunity for sex. No emotional attachment, little to no (hopefully) repercussions. Get your rocks off your jillies and boom itโs done. No strings. I rather like strings. lol I also like to know a person before having sex. Would I have a one night stand? Probably. If the right circumstances presented themselves but more likely than not it wouldnโt happen.
I can see why not on the other. You’re putting your body and emotions into an experience with someone you just met. Do you really know that person? Is it safe? This is sex in general though. Sex between two people is an exchange at it’s most base between two people’s bodies and emotions. Do you have to have that connection? Must you know them per se? No, I don’t think it’s a requirement for sex. For some yes, of course, for others no. It does not make one right or better than the other.
So what about the one night stand? Well, that is the thing. It’s a unique situation, as are most situations. Which makes it such a good fit for writing. You can deal with the emotional weight, or you can just have a purely physical action or the stigma and how they deal with it. It can be used to show your character’s personality or their relationships. So hurrah to the one night stand. Do so with your eyes open, honest communication and aware of potential conflicts. For us writers it’s a great devise.
What to get a MILF on Mother’s Day?
What to get a MILF on her special day? A box of chocolates cream filled so she’ll think of your special love or maybe roses covered with dew to show her what you’re thinking of? How can you show her that special feeling you have? The kind of love that says bend over and pull your panties down?
What a pity it is that Hallmark doesn’t have a card. To show the one you’re lusting for that you want to fill her up. Dinner won’t do it if you can’t make her dessert. A poem just isn’t flattery if you can’t put in a flirt. Nothing out there says “Happy Mother’s Day now take off that fucking skirt”.
What if your MILF has a kinky side? Do you get her whips with little pink bows tied? Can handcuffs say thanks for all that you have done in raising a daughter or son? Do you put her over your knee and spank her as she once might have done? Maybe you suspend her in that rope harness you made, while you sing her praises with your very own serenade?
Ahh what to get a MILF for a happy Mother’s day? Oh what is this? She’s come to me. She just wants to get laid!
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY TO ALL THE SEXY MOTHER’S OUT THERE WHO JUST WANT TO GET LAID! ๐๐
Night Time Rendezvous (Twitter version)
As it is time to say goodbye our hearts remain aflutter The remains of the night linger in our kiss Heat dissipates as steam, cutting our vision asunder Walk away in a fog of bliss Night time rendezvous
The Author Stew webpage - Stories & Poems 