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Tag Archives: erotica

Knowing

art-by-omar-ortiz

 

 

There is not

a single part of you

I will not know.

 

Every fantasy

every desire

every wish

every fear.

every smile

every sigh

every laugh

every tear.

 

Every inch

of your

peerless

perfect skin.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new. Reposted again. Because I feel like doing so.
And because I will.

Art by Omar Ortiz

 
2 Comments

Posted by on January 13, 2020 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Dance for me

 

Dance for me.

Like a goddess

like a Muse

like a slave

like a lover

like an angel.

 

Dance for me

as you have never

danced before.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Victor Bauer

 
4 Comments

Posted by on December 31, 2019 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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The one

 

Heaven__s_a_lie____by_helionn

He knows no other way

It is simply who he is. The way he has always been.

His earliest erotic fantasies were of control. And of damsels in distress.

And yet also of goddesses and worship.

He loves women. With respect. With admiration. With a deep and endless desire.

He needs to adore and to be adored.

Over the years he has taught himself to be a Master of exquisite pleasure and delicious pain. He has known beauty, sensuality and submission beyond words.

But now winter tugs at his coat. He has become lined and grizzled, etched and silver.

The night is long. And his fire burns low.

Yet there is a light. Innocent, pure and holy.

Could she be the one

the one

the one.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I wrote this in December a few years ago, and have repeated it before at this time of year. I think I was perhaps feeling a little weary/melancholy when I first penned it. Smiles.

Photo/Art by Helionn on DeviantArt

 
9 Comments

Posted by on December 31, 2019 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Wild storm

 

If only

I could inhale

the warm fragrance

of your throat

and bury my face

in the wild storm

of your hair.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by William Oxer

 
6 Comments

Posted by on December 8, 2019 in Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Berries

 

Outside

in today’s cold wind

I could not help but think

of you

bound with rope

your exquisite nipples

proud and erect

and as hard

as unripened berries

perfectly defined

against the material

of your dress.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new, but that time of the year

Art by Willi Kissmer

 
1 Comment

Posted by on November 17, 2019 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Her own touch

 

Her own touch

is not his touch

but longing and lust

yearning and need

a dizzying desire

and a wild imagination

have made it so.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not brand new, but true.

Art by Steve Hanks

 
7 Comments

Posted by on November 14, 2019 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Long Night

 

They are alone.

No outside sound can disturb this stillness. No alien light can penetrate this darkness.

He touches her skin. She catches her breath.

He moves his slender fingers lightly across her cheek. Over her lips. It tingles like electricity. She parts them the width of a sigh. He feels her breath like a whisper.

He gently strokes the underside of her jaw. Fingers and thumb go either side of her throat. Her pulse is as rapid as the beating heart of a small bird. He squeezes almost imperceptibly. She raises her chin and leans slightly into his hand.

He releases her. With the palest of caresses, he navigates the curve of her breast. He circles the areola, the miniature terrain like braille. He finds her nipple hard and urgent. He teases it. She swears she can feel the raised, complicated whorl of his fingerprint.

Index and thumb again, like a pincer, capture the perfect rosebud. He tugs gently. She moans close to his ear. She is hungry. He tightens his grip. She feels it like fire. It tracks in a line of pure white heat down her belly and deep into the heart of her sex. She is wet. Tighter still and the pain is impossible pleasure. She wants him to stop – but never.

He lowers his mouth onto hers. She gasps into it as another intense wave thrills through her body. She thrusts herself against him. Wishing her hands were free, yet glad they are not. Needing muscle, needing bone, needing his hand, needing his cock to satisfy her delicious, frantic, gorgeous yearning.

There is no light. No sound.

Only them.

And the long night.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

A couple of years ago I was going through some of my old words and found this – written around this time six years ago. I like it. I hope you enjoy.

Art by Jeremy Mann

 
5 Comments

Posted by on November 4, 2019 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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