beauty, erotica, lust, sex, women

Sir 2.0

A science fiction/erotica series about the limits of personal freedom, desire and technology.

beauty, love, lust, men, sex, women

feral ballet

We are at our most inventive


When there is no thought

Only action

Wrestling around

A spark of conversation

A bonfire of consent

My hands, large and dark around your wrists

The right angle in the dark

A feather breath of pressure

Soft laughter and then the tight grunt




On languid waves of sensation

Your pale skin against my fur

Shivering with need as we wrap around

One another

Some mysteries are solved

In the warm, damp dark

Laughing like children

A feral ballet

Hills of the sheets

And I touch your face

Sending the ache you

Inspire through everything



beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

My Fingers In Your Hair


Still and amused as I sit there

Flush with the burden of purpose

Worn with a grace which

Verges on the irrational self-confident

But the glint in my eyes

Stays even as we talk about the world

And its discontents

Always wanting to take you

Fill you with every last drop of me

Hold you down and fuck the light

Back into you

Because for all my poetry

Those fingers wound in the hair

On the back of your head

They speak plain and firm

And if my kisses

Make you shudder like

You’re possessed

Then I am the possessing spirit

And its exorcism

All this,


As you are

As am I


beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

call the rain

Moisture hung heavy

From the ceiling

Walls breathing

Static tension like God

Squeezing us between his palms

Each breath tastes of ozone

A kiss to break the tension

A touch to call the lightning

We dance whilst staying still

Gather the weather

And dance naked

Underneath the deluge

My fingers slip beneath

Call the rain

Soaked until we glisten


beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

weekend omnibus

Soffritto della carne

ching su kisses

A quiet coronation

Swing From The Past

Your Dark Eyes

beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

Your Dark Eyes

Your dark eyes

Even ablaze with indignation
Beguile me
And i think of your uninhibited cries
Faint as they are right now
Feeling them like falling embers against my skin
Burn through my loneliness like a falling star
The dark spice taste of your kiss
Flavours every solitary meal
And the slippery warmth of you
Calls me home
And I imagine your thighs clamped tight
Around me
A vessel to fill with every drop of my
Masculine energy
Ticklish shivers of anticipation
At the thought of you
beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex, women

Soffritto della carne

Manipulation of texture

Oiled calluses against your skin

Relentless in their search

For the sweet spots

Mimicking the forms

Of animal comfort

Relieved of speech

My hands speak to you

Flavoured with the rare ingredient

Of my attention

Reversal of polarity

The crude, natural technology

Of my manipulation

My tongue

My cock

Instruments of my will


Basted in the rich roux of my kisses

Make soffritto from the rich base

Of your flesh and my



Let me make a feast of you

Simmer until your juices flow

Sweet, thick and clear,

A vacation from the moment

Dive into the heat of my gifts

I shall feed you

With your own senses