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..Strange how this friendship progressed

Because he was curious She was open, gave honest replies

Because he asked nicely She showed him her face

Because he was tender She showed him soft breast

And now he kept asking And it was shy legs and it was shy panties And then mirrors Then cutely it was ass

And now he just told Came easy. Just told. Told her to strip. Told her to touch So swiftly she stripped, caressed and Then pinched Because he told her to pinch Hard and harder still Until her eyes watered and dripped She gave him her tears And as reward He guided her fingers to go squelching and dragging Eyes fixing on his. Hips grinding and jerking And yet It was just the same curious man And yet it was just the same discerningly trustful woman This necessary revelation of long repressed possibilities Now, limitlessly to be explored

someharmfuldreaming

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If I wonderfully had your attention And I do shake at that thought I know that you could do anything to me Anything you wanted Anything

If I had your attention And I do shake at that thought I would be led to confess To all my most selfish and dangerous desires In this mad and blind trust That we are the same That you desire the same And as I confess I shake at the thought Of your body blushingly discovering

That yes, I could do anything to you That your limits are falling away Falling Anything

And truly you will shake someharmfuldreaming

Blaze

16 notes

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That man over there. The one you are liking looking at.

I feel sure that he would. If you asked him nicely.  Probably one of those nice men with a kind face and an obliging nature.  

I think if you asked him nicely he might accept that in your needy dreams, his arms and hands and mouth and smile have an urgent role to play.

He may even be in sympathy with your wincing obsession for his oh so, mundane and neatly threaded, patent leather belt.

It is not as if he looks as if he is doing anything important. 

Just reading a newspaper and occasionally looking at his phone

Not as important as your present need.

So ask him

Ask him nicely

Make sure to say a pretty please

Ask him nicely to

Fuck you

And if his mother taught him proper manners

It would be impolite if he refused. someharmfuldreaming

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One of those big old terraced house. Heavy front door. Heavy Edwardian sash windows. Gappy and draughty. Before he had left the room she had kept her voice down to keep her tipsy conversation from escaping out into the street, and out to embarrass her under the glare of the street lamp.

Thick, floor-dragging velvety curtains. Thick rope tie-backs. Oh yes, she noticed those. Her current state of arousal was causing her to give unusual weight to the oddest of things.

The musky tones of furniture polish, the antique surfaces, the sinuous spirals of carved wood and the plush of velvet upholstery. She took in her surroundings as if through a kaleidoscope. All pleasingly rich fragments of shapes and colours.

Eyes woozily scanning over stuffed bookshelves, she found a friendly volume she remembered once masturbating to. A lot. Arousal surged back into her cosy thoughts again. It felt deliciously good.

Would she like a coffee, a taxi and to sleep in her own bed? She really should do. She had his number and knew it would be used. Maybe best. Too sleepy not to feel clumsy around him.

Thinking herself brave, she tottered out into the hallway and followed noises to the kitchen. Past the imposing balustrade and the soft carpeted stairs that would lead to many bedrooms. She died a little inside but went on. Steadying herself on a door handle she opened it to check for a necessary loo. Jarringly, it opened onto stairs instead. She swayed on the threshold. Deep stairs. A gloomy cellar. Eyes half closed as some old dreams flowed around her wishing to be caught. The memory of a vividly lascivious text. Years ago Her remembered fingers playing all over her writhing wet And squeezing harshly into her breasts Her wanting young skin, tangling in sheets to feel bound A needy place to return to, night after night Those words and scenes burning into her psyche Forever indecently warping the desires of her innocent teenage self.

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He had to look for her. She was waiting for him on a cold stone floor. Not tipsy. Suddenly awake. Not innocent. Horny as fuck someharmfuldreaming

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If my mind wanders to how I wish to be with her it quickly gets messy.

Deep kisses fold into slurped fingers, fold into disappearing sliding cock, her swirling tongue, her dragging fingernails, wrists bound behind her back, her heavenly breasts swinging over my face as I ram her relentlessly from behind, slapping her ass as she bites teasingly on my earlobes and whispers filthy scenarios as she shouts my name and God's and grunts like a trapped animal behind the drool-dripping ball-gag that spreads her jaw uncomfortably wide as she hungrily licks my gorgeously sensitive shaft and works little miracles with her devilish fingers until I am delirious and begging as she struggles, harshly tied and spread-eagled on the bed, blindfolded, hips raised high by cushions as my tongue plays viciously pretty patterns in her simpering wetness, our eyes locked onto each other's in desperate desire as her tender anus opens up millimetre by millimetre to the relentless pressure of my swollen head, kneeling over my face and rubbing herself in a trance over my nose, over my mouth and my beard, working to a frenzy as my tongue painfully strains to add even more to her pleasure More, keep going More

My thoughts have got messy. Physically implausible It would take three, five, or seven Of me. To ravish her the ways that I need to ravish her Yet Somewhere. Many countries away There are tangling, dampened sheets, her panting chest and grinding, writhing limbs. She has chosen me to visit her again Behind her closed eyes And in her mind I am as legion

someharmfuldreaming

Blaze

20 notes

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I may have gradually made of my home, my prison And here it is that I am serving out a sentence in domestic chores In happy families In love that long forgot about urgent desire In rooms that never change Clutter that rarely moves Roles and words Fixed Where everything found It's final form Years And years Ago Shake me up Shake my world Turn it upside-down someharmfuldreaming

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Not really the image I should be turning over in my fantasies As we walk hand in hand, dogs trotting happily around our feet But my horny mind can barely be controlled Not even by the cutting chill of frosty weather And all these neutering layers of heavy woollen clothing You would be horrified at my thoughts. That I am being aroused by dreams of your frozen shivering body Goosebumps and perky, hardened breasts. Absolutely NOT your fantasy Yours was for the summer heat. When we walked hand in hand You. Stumbling along the path Heightening anticipation. A fire raging between your thighs Dripping between your thighs No talk, just rapid breaths Little needy noises As I guided you deep into the orchard And stood you, and sternly stripped you With force and roughness As your body started convulsing Wrists brusquely bound Pushed to your knees Arms lifted high by that rope you had been carrying As it now hangs taut from an unyielding branch This was your fantasy Or how I tried my best to interpret your vision. Find a long thin stick to poke and prod. Something viciously whippy to really make you lurch And cry out, and to sob Your scarf wound and wound blinding your eyes The bulge in my jeans grinding against your forehead A desensitised erection that will last and last Your jaw sagging open Mouth, as if bobbing for apples Finding, Catching And swallowing one whole someharmfuldreaming

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Never too late to ask him to strip you He DOES care about you. He will not question a sincere request. And before his cock asserts itself over his Outwardly gentle nature. Bring out and buckle on, your naughty cuffs And make it as clear, as clear can be. That there IS no misunderstanding. He needs that consent which he cannot run away from No hiding behind politeness and apologies Stop his thoughts, stop his words And that playful, whip-smart mind of his will Reset Find a more forceful way to express itself. You can already tell of his decisive, deliberate strength. Let him reveal the cruel hands. The patient, teasing and tortuous impulses. That might string you out. Hour after writhing, panting Hour You chose him to strip you naked Clever girl someharmfuldreaming

Blaze

17 notes

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When we finally meet, my old friend It cannot be a disappointment. It must not be a disappointment So many years of that frisson of desire All those countless times that I have been aroused And you also. For I know you have never lied. We have fed each other delicious fantasies And held one another tight as we fingered, stroked And writhed, to end, smiling warmly across the internet As we shared in sticky fingers and drowsiness. So when we meet my old friend I am very scared we will just be awkward friends That frisson lost, our entwined history lost. The tension gone, the throb, the pulsing dreamy desire The hope Tell me. How can two people like us act together. someharmfuldreaming