Anticipation

Author’s Note: This is my 32nd poem shared on this platform. I began sharing here because my writing has a flavor that is a bit too spicy for my family and friends. I had hoped to find an open minded community here, and I mostly have. I welcome comments that are supportive and constructive and if you’ve been so kind as to leave me such a comment, I thank you and invite you to view more of my poems. I will not, however, accept comments that are nothing more than rude. If you don’t like my work, that’s fine, simply scroll on. If you choose to disrespect me with an unnecessary rude comment, especially if it’s left anonymously, it will be deleted. My playroom, my rules. Be good boys and good girls. Read, write and kink respectfully.💜

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everybody has
kinks.
Mine are pretty
simple.
I like pain.
I like pressure.
I like impact play.

But one
thing
that really gets me
going is

anticipation

The space between
what could happen,
what will happen and
what happens is my
drug.

The pausing,
the stopping
and then
continuing,
the slow and steady
advance
all trigger my
fear response,
leave me all
deer in headlights,
caught,
immobile and
helpless.

That’s the feeling.

When you grab
my hair
at the base of my
neck and don’t
fucking
move.

When you lean
your lips
towards mine and
stop
just before they
touch.

When you put your
hand on my
throat and
just rest it there
before you
squeeze.

When you rest our
Flogger
on my back
lift it away and
wait
before letting it
fall.

That’s when I
shiver and
pant and
gasp.

That’s exactly
what works
for me.

I need that
edge.

I need that slight
tremor of
fear.

Fear of what will
happen and
fear that I will
let it and
like it.

There is nothing like
that flutter
in the pit of my
stomach,
the tightening
between my
legs,
the catching of my
breath,
the joyful terror of
waiting.

You’re so
Fucking
Good at it.

Everybody
Has
Kinks.

I think
My kink
Is you.