- Erotic Poetry
- His Muse
Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
Please take my hand, precious child,
and rest your weary feet.
I have a poem burning within,
and you are my muse so sweet.
With light tone skin, and blood red lips,
you are a beautiful sight to see.
Your hair glistens, and your voice so clear,
you are truly a masterpiece.
I take the quill and put it to paper,
and words flow like a stream.
A poet's durge, written in verse,
as it lives within our dreams.
You watch me write, and giggle softly,
as my veins bulge with blood.
Knee deep in thought, that I am,
the poetry drowning me like the flood.
When all is done, I look at you,
and I draw you in for a kiss.
First your lips, and then your neck,
and with one bite, hunger-filled bliss.
My muse's blood courses through my viens,
as her body lies dead on the floor.
I leave behind the poem, signed in blood,
and smirk as I walk out the door.
