Tag Archives: wicked wednesday

Wicked Wednesday: Eavesdropping

El Paral-lel 19=894 - 1939 Exhibit at CCCB in Barcelona woman masturbating on a bed

By Kippelboy (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

The walls of my bedroom are thin
and I imagine you with your ear pressed against the wall
having heard my door slam,
waiting to satisfy your need.

Can you hear
The soft rustle of my silk shirt as it
Slides from my shoulders and hits the floor?
The soft whoosh as I pull down the zipper of my jeans
then wiggle out of them and leave them in a pile at my feet?
The gentle pad of my feet across the plush carpet?
The creak of my bed as I climb atop it?

What do you see in your mind
as you listen to my rustling
and hear the buzzing of my vibrator,
the sound rising and fading as I thrust it inside myself,
my wetness drenching the sheets?

Is your cock hard in your hand as you stroke to my moaning,
imagining that it is you thrusting hard inside me
while I rub my clit?

Do you stifle your cry as you cum,
plastering the wall with your seed
as you hear my cries as I climax
before I fall back in satisfaction against my pillow?

As I lie sleepy and satisfied, I wonder how much you overhear
night after night, and if you sleep as soundly afterwards as I do.

 

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Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Wicked Wednesday: Foreigner

Cervelli painting of Orpheus and Euridice

Cervelli (Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons

I want to travel far and wide – I’ve got the travel bug,
and learn to pack my bags up light so I have less to lug.

To journey from America, to go across the seas,
To visit foreign countries and immerse myself in these.

Of course I’d learn to speak a bit, I’d go without a care,
And no matter what would happen I would be so laissez faire.

I’d be a winsome stranger setting foot in a strange land,
I’d seek out love and enjoy life, I think it would be grand.

I’d start in Costa Rica, caliente and mojado,
and find you in a nightclub where we’d tango en la noche

You’d look into mis ojos and then you’d kiss me on the lips,
And then you’d place your dedos on my wild, gyrating hips.

We’d dance la jodienda and you’d say to me te amo,
And we would be amantes till my journey took me further.

We’d whisper adios between our hungry, parting besos,
I’d think about you fondly and I’d hope you also did so.

I’d travel next to Tokyo in the middle of Japan,
Where I would be a gaijin, a josei without a man.

In a busy izakaya I would feel your strong gyoushi,
And when our eyes would meet I’d feel you sweep me off my ashi.

We’d drink a little longer before heading to jitaku,
And we would kuso till yoake, maybe until yoru.

You’d tell me aishite imasu and to you I’d say dai suki desu,
Anata wa watashi no kokoro no yokkyuu desu

The next stop on my trip would be China, and Shanghai,
Experience the city life and say ni hao (or hi)

We’d run across each other on a fanmang de jie,
And it would not take long for us to go home and xìngjiao.

Your shou would feel my shenti and your mu would see my soul,
for a time your aiqíng fills the longing in my shenghuo.

You’d tell me that you loved me and I’d say wo ye ai ni
We’d fall asleep and for a time our love is meant to be.

I want to travel cross the world and fit in as I can,
A foreigner, I’d find a way to talk, to learn, to plan.

So many other countries that I’d want to see and do,
And in each place I’d find a love, but never quite like you.

 

 

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Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Wicked Wednesday: Eye Contact

A lover, couple, painting in a photo panoramio. pradeep kumar chatte

pradeep kumar chatte… [CC BY 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Whether across the room
Or in your arms,
Gently loving
Or madly fucking,
When our eyes make contact
Our souls connect,
And we are one.

 

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Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Wicked Wednesday: Celebrity

Celebrity and fame…if I could be a celebrity, I’d want to be sexy, innovative, and revered like David Bowie…

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Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Wicked Wednesday: Flying

The Lament for Icarus by Herbert Draper

Herbert James Draper [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

If I could fly like Icarus up in the open sky,
I’d spread my wings wide open and I’d let the wind go by.

I wouldn’t heed your warnings that were couched in metaphor,
And I would wonder if you really meant to tell me more.

I’d skim across the waters, flying low and flying free,
And yet I’d keep my distance from the foaming of the sea.

And if my wings were to get damp I’d soar to greater height,
The wind against them drying them and making them so light.

But, being free, I’d want to fly up towards the warming sun,
To get away from all the chains that bound me just to one.

And though you warned me ‘gainst it, I’d fly closer, closer still
My beating wings propelling me up an invisible hill.

I’d fly until the wax that bound my wings began to melt,
And panic as I fell to earth, a fatal blow’d been dealt.

I’d tumble through the sky until I crashed upon the ground,
The glorious freedom that I felt now lost that I was downed.

Despite my wings in tatters by my sides, my broken bones,
I’d rejoice in the knowledge that I’d finally, really flown.

I’d cast aside my fear and taken risks to live my life
I hadn’t cowered inside my shell or hidden from the strife.

And as my battered body breathed its last I’d see the sky,
I’d be content, my soul at peace, and with a smile I’d die.

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Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked