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Tag Archives: these dark desires

Might just be

 

I am captivated

enchanted

enthralled

inspired

made hungry

made breathless

made hard

by the hem

of your skirt

as it rides up

high

on your thigh.

 

Moments

like these

make me believe

there might just be

a god.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Written a couple of years ago, but there are sometimes moments like these ….

Art by Annick Bouvattier

 
 

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My doctor has examined me

Type = ArtScans RGB : Gamma = 2.000

 

My doctor has examined me

He is man of great learning and deep understanding.

He is old and wise, and certificates on his wall attest to his vast and eclectic knowledge. Anatomy, psychiatry, psychology, neurology. Surgery, geometry, chemistry, philately, campanology.

He took deep soundings from my pulse. He listened carefully to my heart. He examined my body with clever hands, the strength of my muscles, the structure of my bones, the conductivity of my nerves, the light in my eyes. He considered tendons, ligaments, cartilage.

He had me listen to indistinct sounds. He made me recall half-forgotten scents.  He insisted I recite my darkest poetry.

He made my reflexes dance

He asked me questions, recovered my dreams, investigated my hopes, pondered over my expectations. Asked pointedly about my exercise. And my patterns of sleep.

He explored my diet, my sexual inclinations, my sensual desires.  My abuse of tea. And alcohol.

When he was done he sat me down and faced me. His brow was furrowed, his mouth severe. His chin was set firm. He was serious in his approach. He was careful in his diagnosis.

He shook his head sorrowfully, and with his fat fountain pen wrote slowly upon his pad. He solemnly handed me the page.

My doctor has examined me

He is a man of considerable reputation. I trust him completely.

My doctor has examined me.

My doctor knows what ails me. He knows what has laid me low.

He is certain of the only thing that can make me well. His recommendation is precise and unequivocal.

My doctor has prescribed me you.

It is a repeat prescription.

Of unlimited dose

To be taken as often

as I require.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I wrote this five years ago. But It made me chuckle so much as I penned it back then, I have decided to post again now.

Art by Fabian Perez

 
 

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Changed

 

Sometimes

she studies

her face

in the mirror

to see

if she has

changed

now she belongs

to me.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new but sometimes true

Art by William Oxer

 

 
4 Comments

Posted by on March 3, 2021 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Magical

 

She is more magical

than a sticky-winged butterfly

unfolding from its hard shell,

the vivid arc of a bright rainbow

after the storm,

the muscular power of a thoroughbred

thundering across a field,

a full silver moon sailing

across a velvet night sky,

a virgin fall of powdery snow

awaiting my skis,

the scent of freshly cut grass

at the end of a summer’s day,

a glass of brunello di montalcino

sipped by the fire,

the staccato gunfire of high heels

crossing a marble floor,

a newly emerged desert flower

ephemeral in the sand.

 

She is more magical

than fervent wishes

unexpectedly coming true.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not a new post. But sometimes there is magic.

Art by Gianni Strino

 
6 Comments

Posted by on March 2, 2021 in Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Beneath my skin

 

You have touched me

without touching me.

You have made me

feel you

beneath my skin.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new, but you have touched me.

Art by William Oxer

 
4 Comments

Posted by on March 1, 2021 in Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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A bar somewhere

 

I imagine us

in a bar

somewhere

your hair

coming loose

dress

like a sheath

calves

like geometry

thighs

like fantasy

eyes shining

lips parted

raising your glass

sighing

‘yes’.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not a brand new post – but I do imagine you in a bar somewhere ….

Art by Fabian Perez

 
4 Comments

Posted by on February 28, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Teaching

 

My teaching of you

began

when you realized

you were curious

and aroused

enough

to study

my dark

sexual syllabus.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by William Oxer

 
2 Comments

Posted by on February 27, 2021 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life

 

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No one will do

 

When it comes

to my wanting

a pure

potent

powerful

perfect

paradise,

a peerless

sans pareil

playground

of sexual pleasure,

I am positive

no one will do

but you.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Written a couple of years ago, but no one will do …

Art by William Oxer

 
4 Comments

Posted by on February 26, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Any other

It began like any other game.

She had read his words. The heady mix of romance, ropes and respect.  Of dominance, decadence and desire. Of longing, lust and leather.  Of sex, service and submission.  Of poetry, pain and pleasure.

It was an attractive, compelling and perhaps dangerous drug.

Yet she knew she could handle it.  The geographic distance would keep her safe.  The lack of a physical connection would be an antidote to its power.  The absence of the carnal would diminish its dominion.

She placed the collar about her throat.  She could feel the urgent pulse in her neck whispering a warning. She smiled bravely into the eye of the camera.

She could control it.

But now she aches.  A deep, persistent hunger that cannot be satisfied by fingers or phallus.

The geographic distance has become her prison, the lack of physical connection is her torturer, the absence of the carnal is the rack upon which her yearning body is stretched day and night.  She wants him.

She will do everything he instructs, and more. Always more.  Yet it will never be enough.  Not for her.

It began like any other addiction,

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I found this in my considerable pile of writings while looking for something else. It feels as relevant as the day it was written.

Painting by William Oxer

 
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Posted by on February 25, 2021 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, romance, Still Life

 

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Between my lines

art-by-francine-hove

 

I wonder

if you can feel

the ache in my words

the desire in my sentences

the sex in my poetry.

 

I wonder

if you can feel

the you

between my lines.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not newly written. But can you feel it?

Art by Francine van Hove

 
5 Comments

Posted by on February 24, 2021 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life

 

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