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