Love
Laid between the sheets-
Love never looked a carnal thing
Lust and nakedness, hidden
He pressed the ankh into the door-
opened a dark lit chamber
Turninging the ankh inside-
he opened a secret door
where weary travellers take heed.
Eyes were on him-
as she pulled up his pants
smiling at the tease.
Saturday 27 December 2014
SHORT STORY: WHY THE WHITE ROSE TURNED BLACK
Why the White Rose Turned Black
Beautiful things are born not made. Take the rose, with its thorny stem and white bud. Not always but sometimes the unlikeliest things are pure, as are the most beautiful, and this rose white as it was held no thorns. As a solitary bud it had no outside influences and as such stayed pure as the snow that landed on it mind November when all roses perished and were not seen again until spring.
Beautiful things are born not made. Take the rose, with its thorny stem and white bud. Not always but sometimes the unlikeliest things are pure, as are the most beautiful, and this rose white as it was held no thorns. As a solitary bud it had no outside influences and as such stayed pure as the snow that landed on it mind November when all roses perished and were not seen again until spring.
FLASH FICTION: THE KISS
The Kiss
There's always a kiss at the end of it. When he sinks his fangs into my throat and takes what he wants, desires in his heart he can't fulfil when he drinks deep, stroking his hand up my thigh trying to encourage his cock to hardness.
There's always a kiss at the end of it. When he sinks his fangs into my throat and takes what he wants, desires in his heart he can't fulfil when he drinks deep, stroking his hand up my thigh trying to encourage his cock to hardness.
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