Tell Me Something Dirty #12

She Still Blossoms Every Swimsuit Season

Her confidence is what makes her so attractive. I can just imagine her talkin' to me, gigglin' away, without a care in the world, but the whole time plannin' how she's goin' to get out of my house afterwards! Heehee...I'm kiddin' she looks kind too, and I'd definitely hope she'd leave me her number...Please? Will you?

A Bevy Of Beauties #9: A Tag Bonanza (42 Photos)

I've collected so many pics over the years and the ones that I don't choose to feature on my blogs and social sites ultimately just get deleted...But why? I've decided to just bunch them all together and post them anyway. I mean, I originally liked the pic enough to save it, right? So why not share it? So this is where I'll dump all the pics I decided for whatever reason won't be featured during my regular posting sessions when I get enough of them to fill a post (if you've followed me for some time, you have to know I'm a creature of habit, right?). So I hope you enjoy them as much as I did finding them! *KISSES*

Stamps Of Approval #18 (Hot Sexy Women Pic Dump - 20 Photos)

We Really Do Love Catching Someone Starin'

This must be where we got the phrase, "The Birds And The Bees" because these little fellows in this poem seem to be havin' such a good time! Heehee...

Here's some more erotic poetry:

“Come Slowly- Eden!” by Emily Dickinson

Come slowly – Eden!

Lips unused to Thee –

Bashful – sip thy Jessamines –

As the fainting Bee –

Reaching late his flower,

Round her chamber hums –

Counts his nectars –

Enters – and is lost in Balms.

Reminds Me A Singer Who "Hit Me One Last Time"

This one confuses me a little but I do get a little tingly when I read it. I think it's about a woman waitin' for her man during a storm to stop workin' and come play with her...to make someone stop whatever they are doin' when they walk into the room, to just stop and stare, crave, and have to satisfy a hunger just upon sight.

Here's some more erotic poetry:

“Hum for the Bolt” by Jamaal May

It could of course be silk. Fifty yards or so

of the next closest thing to water to the touch,

or it could just as easily be a shaft of  wood

crumpling a man struck between spaulder and helm.

But now, with the rain making a noisy erasure

of this town, it is the flash that arrives

and leaves at nearly the same moment. It’s what I want

to be in this moment, in this doorway,

because much as I’d love to be the silk-shimmer

against the curve of anyone’s arm,

as brutal and impeccable as it’d be to soar

from a crossbow with a whistle and have a man

switch off upon my arrival, it is nothing

compared to that moment when I eat the dark,

draw shadows in quick strokes across wall

and start a tongue counting

down to thunder. That counting that says,

I am this far. I am this close.

You Don't Mess With Someone Who Still Owns A VCR

A friend on mine, who also loves to read and write and post educational stuff about books and movies and everything, whose name is Victor (heehee...told you I'd post about you!), loves to post his own poetry. Well, I'm not as gifted to write my own poetry but he has gotten me into readin' some exotic poetry, so I've decided to post some.

Who knew cinnamon was so sexy? I'm not one who is into bringin' food into the bedroom, but if my partner wanted to or needed to I would most definitely play along...remember, I aim to please!

“The Cinnamon Peeler” by Michael Ondaatje

 

If I were a cinnamon peeler

I would ride your bed

And leave the yellow bark dust

On your pillow.

Your breasts and shoulders would reek

You could never walk through markets

without the profession of my fingers

floating over you. The blind would

stumble certain of whom they approached

though you might bathe

under rain gutters, monsoon.

Here on the upper thigh

at this smooth pasture

neighbour to you hair

or the crease

that cuts your back. This ankle.

You will be known among strangers

as the cinnamon peeler’s wife.

I could hardly glance at you

before marriage

never touch you

–your keen nosed mother, your rough brothers.

I buried my hands

in saffron, disguised them

over smoking tar,

helped the honey gatherers…

When we swam once

I touched you in the water

and our bodies remained free,

you could hold me and be blind of smell.

you climbed the bank and said

this is how you touch other women

the grass cutter’s wife, the lime burner’s daughter.

And you searched your arms

for the missing perfume

and knew

what good is it

to be the lime burner’s daughter

left with no trace

as if not spoken to in the act of love

as if wounded without the pleasure of a scar.

You touched

your belly to my hands

in the dry air and said

I am the cinnamon

Peeler’s wife. Smell me.

This Is One Way To Get Him To Call Back...

You know, I'm all about sextin' and stuff like that, and sendin' sexy pictures, but with the way people have been burned by it so much lately, I tend not to partake in this activity as much, especially since I can always just go over the person's house who I'm sextin', right? So people, male or female or however you identify, if someone trusts you enough to send you a vulnerable photo, please, oh, please, never use it against them or out them or use it to hurt them. This behavior is only ruinin' it for the future generations and everyone knows how you felt when you got that first sexy selfie...it should be a good memory not a bad mistake.

Tell Me Something Dirty #11

Sure, I'll Play "Kick" The Can With You

Boy, do you remember that game? I bet the kids nowadays don't even know what Kick the Can is and have probably never played it. As I think about that game right now, I don't think I can point to the actual point of the game besides it just bein' a long drawn out version of tag. And did anyone ever really use a can? Heehee...it was usually a ball or a box or some other toy we didn't care about anymore.

I do have to say that as an adult, I think I like the adult version of this game much better, especially if it would involve the curvy gal above...she's so gorgeous in all the right places...because the reward is just so much more rewardin' than kickin' something, unless you're in to that. So just so everyone knows, I love to be “tagged” and to do the “taggin'” too!