The perfect
naked glide
from breasts
to waist
to hips
curve and line
beyond divine.
A goddess
before my eyes.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by Laszlo Gulyas
Tag Archives: Laszlo Gulyas
Something has changed
Her life is the same.
Yet something subtle, imperceptible, indefinable has changed.
She seeks it in the buildings, the landscape, the weather and the light. In the steam from her coffee. She looks for it in the faces of others. She tries to find clues in music, in art, and in films that make her laugh and cry. In books and in magazines and in the words of romantic poets
She watches clouds making familiar shapes across an ordinary sky.
She stands surrounded by night and studies the moon and stars. She lets the breeze tug at her hair and listens for something she might not hear.
In her room, with the lights down low, she examines her body, stripping naked, running her hands over her skin. She is alive to her own touch. Her fingers make her sigh. She breathes deeply.
She stares back at herself and tries to read her own expression.
Her eyes give something away. They are bright, wide, curious, excited. Her lips are full, the faintest of smiles kissing the edges. There is the softest blush upon her cheek, and in her throat.
Her life is the same
Yet something has changed.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
This post was written a while ago. But sometimes old things strike new chords.
Art by Laszlo Gulyas
Getting ready
Getting ready
.
I adore the thought
of you
getting ready
hot water running
in rapid rivers
your skin slick
with scented soap
blushing with heat
and anticipation.
.
I adore the thought
of you
getting ready
lazily lingering
in lacy lingerie
sexily slipping
into silky stockings
sleek and sensual
in a sheath of a dress.
.
I adore the thought
of you
getting ready
pristine, painted
poised and peerless
and perfectly prepared
for me.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by Laszlo Gulyas
This is another ‘not new’ post. It is originally from five years ago, and has been re-aired at least four times. There is something deeply arousing about a lover, whether physical or distant, getting ready. It is humbling, and yet fills me with pride.
Command Performance
He wants
to make her body sing
to train her
to direct her
to conduct her
to control her.
He wants
to make her body sing
to be his chanteuse
to be his nightingale
to be his diva
to be his leading lady soprano
pouring out her soul
He wants
to make her body sing
and sigh
and dance
and glide
and twist
and writhe
and shiver
and sway
and fill his stage
with her perfect submission
a command performance
only for him.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
This post is three years old – but a command performance is always special.
Art by Laszio Gulyas
Something has changed
Her life is the same.
Yet something subtle, imperceptible, indefinable has changed.
She seeks it in the buildings, the landscape, the weather and the light. In the steam from her coffee. She looks for it in the faces of others. She tries to find clues in music, in art, and in films that make her laugh and cry. In books and in magazines and in the words of romantic poets
She watches clouds making familiar shapes across an ordinary sky.
She stands surrounded by night and studies the moon and stars. She lets the breeze tug at her hair and listens for something she might not hear.
In her room, with the lights down low, she examines her body, stripping naked, running her hands over her skin. She is alive to her own touch. Her fingers make her sigh. She breathes deeply.
She stares back at herself and tries to read her own expression.
Her eyes give something away. They are bright, wide, curious, excited. Her lips are full, the faintest of smiles kissing the edges. There is the softest blush upon her cheek, and in her throat.
Her life is the same
Yet something has changed.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
This post was written a while ago. But sometimes old things strike new chords.
Art by Laszlo Gulyas
Getting ready
Getting ready
.
I adore the thought
of you
getting ready
hot water running
in rapid rivers
your skin slick
with scented soap
blushing with heat
and anticipation.
.
I adore the thought
of you
getting ready
lazily lingering
in lacy lingerie
sexily slipping
into silky stockings
sleek and sensual
in a sheath of a dress.
.
I adore the thought
of you
getting ready
pristine, painted
poised and peerless
and perfectly prepared
for me.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by Laszlo Gulyas
This is another ‘not new’ post. It is originally from four years ago, and has been re-aired at least three times. There is something deeply arousing about a lover, whether physical or distant, getting ready. It is humbling, and yet fills me with pride.
Command Performance
He wants
to make her body sing
to train her
to direct her
to conduct her
to control her.
He wants
to make her body sing
to be his chanteuse
to be his nightingale
to be his diva
to be his leading lady soprano
pouring out her soul
He wants
to make her body sing
and sigh
and dance
and glide
and twist
and writhe
and shiver
and sway
and fill his stage
with her perfect submission
a command performance
only for him.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
This post is two years old – but a command performance is always special.
Art by Laszio Gulyas
Something has changed
Her life is the same.
Yet something subtle, imperceptible, indefinable has changed.
She seeks it in the buildings, the landscape, the weather and the light. In the steam from her coffee. She looks for it in the faces of others. She tries to find clues in music, in art, and in films that make her laugh and cry. In books and in magazines and in the words of romantic poets
She watches clouds making familiar shapes across an ordinary sky.
She stands surrounded by night and studies the moon and stars. She lets the breeze tug at her hair and listens for something she might not hear.
In her room, with the lights down low, she examines her body, stripping naked, running her hands over her skin. She is alive to her own touch. Her fingers make her sigh. She breathes deeply.
She stares back at herself and tries to read her own expression.
Her eyes give something away. They are bright, wide, curious, excited. Her lips are full, the faintest of smiles kissing the edges. There is the softest blush upon her cheek, and in her throat.
Her life is the same
Yet something has changed.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
This post written a while ago. But sometimes old things strike new chords.
Art by Laszlo Gulyas
Getting ready
Getting ready
.
I adore the thought
of you
getting ready
hot water running
in rapid rivers
your skin slick
with scented soap
blushing with heat
and anticipation.
.
I adore the thought
of you
getting ready
lazily lingering
in lacy lingerie
sexily slipping
into silky stockings
sleek and sensual
in a sheath of a dress.
.
I adore the thought
of you
getting ready
pristine, painted
poised and peerless
and perfectly prepared
for me.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by Laszlo Gulyas
This is another ‘not new’ post. It is originally from three years ago, and has been aired a couple of times. There is something deeply arousing about a lover, whether physical or distant, getting ready. It is humbling, and yet fills me with pride.
Command Performance
He wants
to make her body sing
to train her
to direct her
to conduct her
to control her.
He wants
to make her body sing
to be his chanteuse
to be his nightingale
to be his diva
to be his leading lady soprano
pouring out her soul
He wants
to make her body sing
and sigh
and dance
and glide
and twist
and writhe
and shiver
and sway
and fill his stage
with her perfect submission
a command performance
only for him.
.
.
This post is a year old – but a command performance is always special.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Art by Laszio Gulyas
