Categories
beauty love poetry women

Candle

Still burning

The chill breeze

Makes my flame waver

But nothing

Snuffs

It

Out

Categories
books erotica fiction love women

Nothing Keeps Me Anywhere eBook: Bliss, Dahlia: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

Out now for Kindle in ebook.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08C7VRPF6

A gripping tale of passion, redemption and secrets from the author of 51R and Lessons and Tests.
John is a self-improvement coach giving a speech at a conference when he meets Andrea, an ambitious MMA fighter. When their passionate physical relationship leads to professional disaster for John, he finds a path to redemption through his involvement with Andrea and the training team she has built around her. When John’s past returns to wreak more havoc on the new life he’s built for himself, he must decide whether his love is enough to make him stand firm or run.

Categories
erotica love women

Rain In The Afternoon

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She had been squalling all day. A quiet irritation and restlessness had lent an edge to her demeanour. He had noticed it as he put the cup of tea down on the table that it would build and burn her out, then exhaust her. He could ignore it, but he saw how it hurt her and wanted to do something about it. She lived in the perpetual state of warring impulses, defended by rejection with the weapons made from her own fears, abandonment. Peace and resources, touch and thought. Meditation and prayer. He saw all this and loved her, anyway.  She was not his, but it was his turn. 

The responsibility stirred him. She picked up the pencil and continued to sketch. Another issue of their comic book, working from his script but her pencils and inks. Last month, they had gone to the movie premiere and laughed at how surreal it felt to see the late-night conversations come alive on the screen. He loved her work and had finished the script for the next issue, then sat at the kitchen table and watched her work as he rolled another cigarette. 

She caught him looking at her.

‘What?’ she said. 

Her voice was sharp.

He watched her face as he lit his cigarette and sat back in his chair.

‘You’ve been restless all morning.’ he said. 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

‘I’m not looking to define it but just acknowledging it is there.’ he said. 

She huffed and returned her attention to the page. He picked up his coffee and drank, then took a puff on his cigarette, which made his head swim with nicotine as he watched her. He could have gone home, which was a gordian knot approach to take, but he enjoyed her. She was a test as much as a celebration.  Most of the time, he watched her like the weather and dressed his soul according to what the sky of her predicted. 

It looked like rain this afternoon. 

He put the cigarette out and went to the sink, washed his hands and dried them as he turned and looked at her. 

‘I think you’re being a brat.’ he said. 

There was a playfulness to his voice which made her look up and pout. Her eyes narrowed and she set the pencil down.

‘No, I’m not. I just get like this sometimes. It’s not you.’ 

He walked over to her and shook his head. 

‘I know it’s not. But I know it needs addressing.’ he said. 

She fought the slight smile which burst on her lips like a sunrise. He tamped down his own pleasure in seeing the unspoken assertion of her playing along. Her depths were something he enjoyed, and no matter what else was going on between them, they played well together. 

‘Oh, does it now?’ she said. 

He nodded. 

‘Yes, it does. Now I have a responsibility to deal with it,’ he said.

She turned her head and pouted. He reached his right hand, palmed her jaw and splayed his fingers across her cheek. He felt her smile vibrate down into his hand as he turned her head towards him. There was no force in it, but there was power, easy and calm as she looked at him, pouting with a playful irritation. 

She grunted and tried to turn her head but he held her firm, grimacing as he put his other hand at the back of her head and gripped her hair hard enough to make her draw breath. 

‘Stand up.’ he said. 

She pushed the chair back and he pulled her hair again, made her gasp before she pouted and tried to pull away. 

‘I’ve been good, haven’t I?.’ she said. 

He shook his head and squeezed her jaw between his fingers as he stared at her. 

‘I decide that.’ he said. 

She smiled, breaking character for a moment, and he grinned before returning to an expression of brooding imperiousness. The delicacy of the pleasure he took was in its control. His heart thumped in his chest as he let go of her and took her left arm by the wrist. 

He walked her to the living room and let go. 

‘I want you to stand in the corner and think about how you’ve behaved.’ he said. 

She rewarded his attention with watching the delicious micro-conflict. The missed notes played often enough to become phrases in the symphony of her. She shuddered with delight as she lowered her head. 

‘That’s not fair.’ she said. 

He sighed and pointed towards the corner. 

‘Do as you’re told.’ he said. 

She snarled and turned away. He reached out and took her by the wrist and walked her to the corner, then put his hand on the small of her back, underneath her sweater and guided her into the corner. 

‘How long for?’ she said. 

He leaned over and whispered in her ear. 

‘Every time you ask, it gets longer.’ he said. 

She giggled and straightened up, put her hands by her side and pouted.

‘OK.’ she said. 

He got his coffee and brought through an ashtray and his pouch of tobacco, sat on the couch and rolled a cigarette. The air sung with tension but he absorbed it, letting the incipient vibration gather strength in the pit of his stomach. Looking at her was a pleasure and she moved her hips from side to side, knowing the thrill it gave them both.

‘Don’t fidget.’ he said. 

He lit the cigarette and made her wait for the time it took him to smoke it. 

‘I’m not.’ she said. 

He chuckled and watched her. The burn in his lungs from the cigarette mingled with the slow build of his arousal. She stood in the corner, trembling in silence, and when he crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray, he stood up and walked over to her. 

She turned around, but he told her to stay still. His voice was thick, a growl from his belly. They spoke a language of playful restraint and tension, and for all its art, it was a primal state of grace between them. 

He walked over to her and brought his arms around her from behind. His right hand rested on her stomach whilst his left hand came up and cupped her chin in his hand. She pressed back against him, found him hard and ready as she pushed her backside into his crotch, revelling in the hot squeeze of his arms around her. His breath was warm against her cheek. 

‘Have I been good?’ she said. 

He grunted and slipped his right hand under the waistband of her cotton pants and stroked the crotch of her panties. There was a warmth seeping through the cloth and he petted it with his fingertips. She sighed and pushed back again. He grunted and turned her head, brushed his lips against hers which made her give a small moan from the back of her throat. 

He plucked her underwear to one side and opened her with his fingers. She sighed as he pressed his index finger into the liquid heat of her, testing the unspoken assertion of her mood with a small circle which made her groan. 

Their lips danced and played with one another as he stroked her in small circles. She brought her arm around behind her, urged him closer as though she could push him into her. He bucked back and she softened. He came forward, keeping the rhythm of his fingers constant and focused as her arousal soaked his fingertips. Each stroke expressed delicious, deliberate friction, and they built upon one another. She pulled her mouth away from his, and her eyes were heavy-lidded with pleasure. 

‘Can I come?’ she said. 

He smiled and shook his head. His fingers found a spot which made her gasp and lean forward, palms to the wall as she squeezed out a plea for permission. 

‘No.’ he said. 

She shuddered and whimpered as she pulsed over his fingers. She pleaded with him and he denied her, knowing the anticipation was becoming unbearable and revelling in the power of being able to test her through his actions and their consequences. 

After her third request, he put his mouth to her ear and made her ask him again. She babbled through it, shaking with the war she was fighting, on the tightrope of an ecstasy which he took as his due. His fingers were a silken magic trick between her thighs and it was all she could do to hold on. 

He told her yes, and she cried out as she clutched for him. She pressed herself against him as she hollered through the pulsing spasms of propulsive delight, her skin alive with the crackling wonder of her orgasm. She felt, rather than thought, went into the place within where his hands and body, his words spun her into playful paroxysms of feeling. When the spasms subsided, they held one another in the corner. She kissed him all over his face, gasping and sighing as he enjoyed the febrile waves of heat coming off her. He petted her between her thighs, painting up her navel with her own juices as they kissed and murmured to one another. 

‘I feel so much better now.’ she said. 

He kissed her on the forehead. 

‘Good.’ he said. 

She glanced up at him and smiled as she stroked his face. 

‘Thank you. I will get those pages finished. You can get the washing in.’ she said. 

He grimaced and asked her why. She smiled and kissed him again. 

‘It looks like rain.’ she said. 

Categories
beauty fiction love short fiction women

1UP (Drabble)

games-lineup-1000

She looked at him across the dancefloor. Plucking up the courage to say hello again. The lights are kind to everyone in here, but she still feels a small shame at how time has left its mark on her.

She walks across the dancefloor. When he smiles at her, it’s twenty years gone in an instant.

‘Hello, stranger.’ he said. Jovial, like they’re old friends.

She goes to speak, but the words don’t come out. Again.

The world goes black, and words float before her.

INSERT COIN TO CONTINUE.

Categories
love lust poetry sex women

to be broken in a perfumed garden

I want

To break you

Not from cruelty

Or weakness

But from a want

Strong as gravity.

Even in passing,

The urge you inspire

Makes my paws heavy

Ready to grasp you close

Pull your hair,

Tease and dishevel you

A rambunctious glorious play.

Belly laughter and bruises,

Red stripes of flesh like tiger markings,

To test and push,

And all of it makes a sense which

Sits quiet and patient,

Alongside the sweep of conversation,

The poetry of silences

Which express the all,

Baby girl,

I appeal not to reason,

But to the storm,

The raging ocean,

The roaring animal

Which lives in the perfumed garden

Of your flesh

Yet I know the joy

Of your smile taking wing

And brightening the air

Around me.

Categories
beauty love poetry Uncategorized women

rain of my attention

Beneath the actions,

The calm authority with which

I conduct myself,

The supple confidence

Which comes from being

Unencumbered by restlessness

Some part of me reveals itself

Rough hands made delicate

Deep, gruff voice softened

Into chuckles

Trained but not domesticated

My words are cool sips

Smoothing out into bursts of warmth

And each time I enter the room,

It becomes the first time,

And a rush of adolescence

Returns

Like the building of static

Before a storm

And you dance in the rain of my attention

The ribald peals of laughter

Ringing like church bells

And this, the closest

I’ve come to knowing faith

Makes me feel

As close to salvation

As I’m likely

To

Get

 

Categories
beauty love lust poetry sex women

A Deep Kiss

oh how

My will

Seeks expression

Through your flesh

My lips

And tongue would

Kiss my intentions

Into the damp, warm

Places of you

Drink each glistening

Drop 

My hands would

Compose hymns

To the divine

With each pinch

Stroke

Sliding them slow

Exploring the 

Throb of your 

Need and calling

It into the air

With my body

And it’s rough

Power

I would gently

Capably

Redraw the boundaries

Of your soul’s

Capacity

For love

To match the beauty

That draws out the

Beast within

And all his

Rapacious poetry

Categories
love women

Trust

The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.

-Ernest Hemingway

Categories
love poetry women

to crack the clay.

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to crack the clay.

On solid ground
But standing on the edge
A sense that the fall
Would be wild and sweet
Fast and you’d hear the sigh
Of joy over the volume of the crash
In that rubble, revealed by the scars
You’d find yourself,
Bright and shining,
Show me the woman encased
In the clay of goodness,
Let me test that fire
With the quiet call to obey
To let me take care of you

Categories
beauty love poetry sex women

As you walk across the room.

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The sight of you

In motion

Giving voice

To the divine

Feminine

Calling through

The bland cream of

Culture

To the primal masculine

Stripping me of empty

Words filling the void

With animal laughter

The curves

Draw out the divine drug

Of lust and like the lupine tides

Of full moon I change in

Your light into something

Dark and intent

Inspired to

the warring roiling

Clash of bodies

My breath sticking

Napalm in my lungs

At the sight of you

Would you be shocked

At the admission

A confession,  offered

Without guilt or shame

The chains that tether

A man to the rock

Of propriety

And I would tear

The clothes from you

Not to spoil

But to be witness

To the fullest terrifying

Beauty of you

Surrendered to pleasure

My eyes are full

And I am quiet because

I am not thirsty

But hungry