- Erotic Poetry
- Close Shave
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Click hereA delicate task...
Requiring a delicate...
Deft touch...
One that is entrusted...
To a small select few...
A hot bath is drawn...
Candles and incense are burned...
Entering the bath...
So hot and relaxing...
She allows time to soak...
Find some release...
From her stress and worry...
This is her time...
Soon she stirs...
And she begins...
Slowly and carefully...
She slides the tool...
To the tops of her thighs...
Making her skin smooth...
Free of unwanted things...
A smooth stoke is needed...
And a steady hand...
She wants to please herself...
And her lover...
She ponders for a while...
Why not...
And so with care...
She slowly removes...
A little bit...
Until she is oh so smooth...
With just a soft triangle...
Of soft down...
That points down...
As if to let her lover know...
This is where to go...
A giggle escapes...
Then..
Rinsing and touching...
She finds sensation...
Intoxicating...
Liberation...
She losses track...
And retreats...
Into her private space...
Her fingers dancing across...
Newly exposed skin...
Decadent...
She feels herself deeply within...
Building to release...
Until at last...
She moans and screams...
With joy and pleasure...
Forgetting...
He is there...
She hears a knock...
And a voice of concern...
Blushing crimson...
She responds...
A lame excuse...
Inviting perhaps...
Later a tease...
But for now...
She’ll keep her secret...
A surprise for her lover...
She touches again...
The small patch...
Tool in hand...
And considers...
Phoebus
©1/2/3
- COMMENTS
WickedEveover 19 years agobut the double spacing, lack of stanzas and endless ellipses are distracting.
A delicate task,
requiring a delicate, deft touch,
one that is entrusted
to a small, select few.
A hot bath is drawn.
Candles and incense are burned.
Entering the bath,
so hot and relaxing,
she allows time to soak,
find some release
from stress and worry.
This is her time.
Soon she stirs,
and she begins
slowly and carefully.
She slides the tool
to the tops of her thighs,
making her skin smooth,
free of unwanted things.
A smooth stoke is needed
and a steady hand.
She wants to please herself
and her lover.
She ponders for a while.
Why not,
and so with care,
she slowly removes
a little bit
until she is oh so smooth.
With just a soft triangle
of soft down
that points down
as if to let her lover know
this is where to go.
A giggle escapes,
then rinsing and touching,
she finds sensation,
intoxicating
liberation.
She losses track
and retreats
into her private space.
Her fingers dancing across
newly exposed skin.
Decadent,
she feels herself deeply within.
Building to release
until at last
she moans and screams
with joy and pleasure,
forgetting
he is there.
She hears a knock
and a voice of concern.
Blushing crimson,
she responds,
a lame excuse,
inviting perhaps.
Later a tease,
but for now,
she’ll keep her secret,
a surprise for her lover.
She touches again
the small patch,
tool in hand
and considers.
