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Posted by on Sep 6, 2015 in News | 0 comments

Erotic Poetry: Inflamed Waters

BeachSex

In the erotic poetry of Inflamed Waters, we are seductively guided from foreplay to orgasm.

Written By

LACEY COTTON

A 63-year young bad girl stuck in the free spirit mode of her youth. When she’s not nude horseback riding, she writes for Filthy Gorgeous Media. Her bad girl expertise on all things filthy comes from her years of exploring swinger clubs with her late girlfriend, Bella, and small-bit roles in erotic films.

Erotic literature has been around since the Greeks and Romans. It is made up of fictional and factual stories of human sexual encounters and has the power to arouse the reader. Erotica can take form of novels, short stories, poetry, true-life memoirs, and sex manuals. The common genre is sexual fantasies and includes themes such as prostitution, orgies, homosexuality, and fetishes. In Inflamed Waters, a pair is having sex and the speaker is bringing us through her poetic experience. Beginning with slow touching and moving along to the end with a united peak, the audience is invited to take a ride with the speaker as they go build to the climax and then finish. The speaker offers a sensual journey in water through sex and orgasm.

Slip down with me, neath turquoise seas,

opaque sands tickle our feet.

Skinny black strings grace hip, slung low

your finger tugs there first..slow slow.

Hooking, you pull.. our skin meets close,

laying me back to free-float..

Legs rise, sans weight in your arms

head dips to nip my pearled soak.

Suckles you lay, arching me.. warm

piercing deep, my pulsing core..

Waters in splash, your tongue-hot lash,

burning sips of complexing swirl.

Shores shift ‘tween us, upping my blush;

I taunt you in emerald lust.

Spill hot rush to your hand, sexy man,

whisper, .. “I flame for your fuck.”

‘Neath waters of deep you enter

claiming my tightest desire..

I scream, I plead.. for ‘harder please!”..

You own me, give all that I need.

Strokes surge wide. waves push at us both

our rhythm creams you as I slide.

You are hard in-and-out.. smooth glide

pale hips cradle, wiggle, and grind.

From our shared look, I bliss-shatter

squeezing pre-love from your thrust..

Encircled, you claim all perfection

as we peak in unison’ed hush.

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