RSS

Tag Archives: masturbation

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

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Use me

 

Think of me

as a poet

a priest

a professor

 

Think of me

as a stranger

a shaman

a sorcerer

 

Think of me

as a doctor

a dancer

a Dominant.

 

Use me

as the fantasy

who makes you blush

part your thighs

and arch your back

when you are alone.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new, but you might use me.

Art by John Silver

 
10 Comments

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

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Let her hands

 

She has let her hands

wander all over

her body

as if they belonged

to a lover

to a writer

to a teacher

to a priest

to an angel

to the devil

to her Master.

As if they belonged

to a stranger.

As if they belonged

to me.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new. But always new.

Art by Patrice Murciano

 
6 Comments

Posted by on July 19, 2019 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Breath

 

art-by-steve-hanks

 

 

She strokes

the soft

smooth

silky skin

of her inner thigh

and imagines

his touch

his finger tips

his kiss

and the thrill

of his breath.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I wrote this a couple of years ago. I wonder if you imagine it.

Art by Steve Hanks

 
6 Comments

Posted by on January 31, 2019 in Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Dizzy

serge-marshennikov-9-620x413

 

Dizzy with desire

she trails her fingers

from the hollow of her throat

over the yearning ache of her breasts

down the sweet mound of her belly

and between her parted thighs

to her slick and swollen sex.

She imagines they are his fingers

finding her hungry

and wet.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Serge Marshennikov

I posted this a year ago. But felt it could cope with a repost.

 
14 Comments

Posted by on October 6, 2016 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Your touch

Art by Marcos Beccari

 

From a distance

across oceans

borders

mountains

cities

I will lay

your hands

upon you.

 

In your touch

I will be a lover

a poet

your Master

a stranger

the devil

a holy man.

 

I will be the name

in your mouth

the cry

on your lips.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Marcos Beccari

 

 
6 Comments

Posted by on August 12, 2016 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Dizzy

Art by Serge Marshennikov

 

Dizzy with desire

she trails her fingers

from the hollow of her throat

over the yearning ache of her breasts

down the sweet mound of her belly

and between her parted thighs

to her slick and swollen sex.

She imagines they are his fingers

finding her hungry

and wet.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Serge Marshennikov

 
7 Comments

Posted by on October 1, 2015 in Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Always someone

 

Art by Victor Bauer

When I am alone

In the sultry, electric heat of a stormy summer night. In the still, misty air of a hushed and muted Autumn afternoon. In the warm bed contrast of a shivery bitter-cold winter morning. In the sap-rising new warmth of a gentle Spring evening.

When I am utterly alone

And when my wordy mind is full of dancers. Of yearning. almost-innocent girls in party dresses. Of elegant, long-legged women, heels sending staccato gun fire across marble floors. Of leather-clad vixens, full swagger, poise and scarcely admitted vulnerability.  Of submissive, naked angels. spread and tied like sacrifice on pure white sheets on wide brass beds…..

And when my memories and fantasies, and the touch of my own fingers across my flesh, have made me ache and burn for physical release

There is always a beauty and a body I conjure up when I close my eyes.

A delicious smile. A paradise of curves and lines and soft tender skin. A wonder of gorgeous breasts with hard-as-berry nipples. A roll of hips that take my breath away. A perfection of soft thighs, seductively parted. Eloquent eyes that know my dark soul.

There is always someone my hunger turns to.

Someone to bring me to a wild, private, exultant, shuddering climax

It is always you.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Victor Bauer

I wrote this a year ago. I hope you can bear the repeat.

 
16 Comments

Posted by on September 9, 2015 in Erotica, Lovers Past

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

What he has done to her

What he has done to her

She does not know what he has done to her.

She studies her face in the mirror. She wonders if others can see the hunger in it.  She wonders if she is betrayed by the wild, yearning look in her eyes. She is certain that she is wearing her lust like a badge.

She brushes her finger tips lightly across her lips. It sends an electric jolt through her body. A lay-line of desire that tingles from breast to belly to thighs.

It fully reawakens the ache inside her. She almost gasps at the intensity of it. A certain, steady, endless throb. Impossible to ignore. A ball of longing that radiates from her burning sex to every part of her being. Her skin reacts to any touch. Even the brush of her clothes makes her dizzy with need.

Its urgency overwhelms her. As it does every distracted day. Every tortured night. There is no respite even when she sleeps. Her dreams are a decadent tangle of limbs, whips and ropes, desperate mouths, probing tongues and deep penetration.

She can bear it no more. She is on her knees. She lets her fingers trail across her cheek, down her neck. She imagines she is in his hands. She takes her nipples between thumb and forefinger and squeezes until she gasps. Pain and pleasure. His religion.

She finds herself slick, wet and swollen. She rubs herself roughly. Brutally. Savagely. The pure heat of her arousal shocks and thrills her.

Her climax is violent. It rips and tears through her. Her body shudders and dances erratically. She is engulfed by it and yet still somehow manages to keep her fingers working. Both hands. Forcing herself onwards. The way he would do.

The next tidal wave is unstoppable. It drowns her. She is breathless, exhausted, trembling. Weak, Helpless. She has no strength left. She collapses. She sobs and laughs and shakes her head in amazement.

She does not know what he has done to her.

But she hates it.

And she loves it.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo from a private source, used by kind permission.

This piece was written about a year ago. I have used the excuse of adding audio to justify a repost.
A woman’s climax has always fascinated and aroused me.There is nothing more satisfying, rewarding and thrilling for a man than to be the cause of his lover’s orgasm – in whatever way he can bring it about.

 
23 Comments

Posted by on January 26, 2015 in D/s, Erotica

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Always someone

Little Black Dress

When I am alone

In the sultry, electric heat of a stormy summer night. In the still, misty air of a hushed and muted Autumn afternoon. In the warm bed contrast of a shivery bitter-cold winter morning. In the sap-rising new warmth of a gentle Spring evening.

When I am utterly alone

And when my wordy mind is full of dancers. Of yearning. almost-innocent girls in party dresses. Of elegant, long-legged women, heels sending staccato gun fire across marble floors. Of leather-clad vixens, full swagger, poise and scarcely admitted vulnerability.  Of submissive, naked angels. spread and tied like sacrifice on pure white sheets on wide brass beds…..

And when my memories and fantasies, and the touch of my own fingers across my flesh, have made me ache and burn for physical release

There is always a beauty and a body I conjure up when I close my eyes.

A delicious smile. A paradise of curves and lines and soft tender skin. A wonder of gorgeous breasts with hard-as-berry nipples. A roll of hips that take my breath away. A perfection of soft thighs, seductively parted. Eloquent eyes that know my dark soul.

There is always someone my hunger turns to.

Someone to bring me to a wild, private, exultant, shuddering climax

It is always you.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Thomas Saliot

 

 

 

 
19 Comments

Posted by on September 11, 2014 in D/s, Erotica, Lovers Past

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,