Warm Machine

Arching your back

As the ropes hold you still

Here, no outcome

Other than the quiet joy

Of exploration

The rumbling swish of

A drawer being opened

As you ask me what

I have planned.

You hear the hum

Before you feel it

Tracing careful paths

Along your skin

Your bones spread rumours

That make you foam with anticipation

Surgical without ever breaking the skin

At your breasts,

The dull sting and delicious urgent pressure

Prepared and poised

As the hum feels louder

Setting sparks like stars being born

Champagne cork pops in your thoughts

My mouth at your ear

Whispering instructions

Testing and stretching you

Until you convulse in

A shower of


Lifting to show you

Where your come

Has rolled down

The length

Of the warm machine

Inside you


2 thoughts on “Warm Machine

    1. There’s an element of ritual to some sexual experiences. Getting into that liminal space where you’re not anxious and simply responding to stimulus takes a degree of observation and technique. I like that care and attention, it’s akin to worship which sex can be.

      Liked by 1 person

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