Monday, May 14, 2012

Me, As Time Goes By

The Debauchery Delved Into In The Twilight Of The Weekend And That TAZapper URL

My first foray into the debauchery delved into in the twilight of the weekend . . .

So, today (well, technically this was for Sunday but let's not quibble over silly little details, shall we?), I decided to participate in a meme I've adored from afar for quite some time. If you haven't been there, check out creator molly's blog, molly's daily kiss. Also, don't forget to check out the specific Sinful Sunday section, which this post is my participation in.

I took baby steps, so don't expect anything shocking from me. I am what I am and sometimes that includes being demure and coy. ;P

Also, since I promised ages ago and you've been so incredibly patient, I've finally gotten around to giving y'all something I promised months ago: the url to purchase the TAZapper in the U.S. You can find it on the web at Toy's Toys..

My Sinful Sunday Contribution:

Me: As Time Goes By

And don't forget about . . .

Sinful Sunday

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Finding the beauty of sexuality with Erotic Poetry via

Finding the beauty of sexuality with Erotic Poetry

This is an amazing resource for erotic poetry. Peppered with both modern and historical classics, these poems (of which there are a multitude, believe you me) are both erotic and literate with well-crafted, vivid imagery, appropriate and unexpected metaphor and simile, as well as a myriad of expertly-used poetic devices which all combine to make this post the finest collection of erotic poetry I have found in a single post. To date, that is. ;)

You can find more of the author's wealth of wisdom and creative and spiritual ideas at the site she contributes to, Enlighten Your Day. However, after exploring this site for even five minutes, I'm afraid you're going to both want to kiss and kill me... there is a wealth of information and ideas shared by the impressive authors of this blog but the blog itself hasn't been updated since late June, 2011. It's my assumption that it's now defunct but if a particular contributor catches your fancy, so to speak, my bet is there doing something out there in the interwebs, so just google 'em and see what catches their fancy these days. Hopefully, good erotica is still on their radars. To find more from the particular contributor who penned this particular post, try his I Dream Now travel-oriented blog; and also at .me by Jonathon Holmes, which appears to be a less niche blog/site.

Hidden Gems that Just Needed Dusting Off

Old poems I found while scrounging around my various boxes, file folders, and so on and so forth. Here is, the first edition of...

Not Just Fools Gold 

Pt. 1:

Man of My Dreams

I sit here weary and waning,
afraid of all I'm not gaining,
waiting to be swept off my feet,
to be taken on that once-upon-a-time 

Give me Hell's Night,
a bottle of cheap wine, some hash, 
and a good fight,
but promise not to leave my side,

because it's you who forces me 
to ignore the pull of the tide

and stop the hiding inside.

It's sunny and sweet
anywhere we meet -
a treat,
a magical feat,

a sensuous affair.
Oh boy, it'll take us somewhere.
And "over the rainbow" and all that jazz, too.
God, I want someone just like you –

someone who'll tame my wild beast,
deal with my torturous heat,
keep me from defeat,

give me perpetual twilight,
tickle me where no one can see,
be everything and everyone to me.

copyright 2007 Katherine Andrews

Pt. 2

What We Got

You excite,
take me to the edge of delight,
then you tease and tantalize.

I try to devise
some fancy plot or scheme
to bring me to our dream.

I hold my breath, cross my fingers,
to countless gods I pray,
still, there are not the dazzling colors
exploding, only the in-between
of gray.

Surrounded by a haze,
I wait for days
to be lifted to that highest of heights,
to get that mystical, magical invite,

to get rid of my demons, to exorcise,
but, mostly, for you and me to be realized --
to be that perfect team
built of fire and steam.

Down, down, I lay,
dreaming of sex and the San Francisco bay,
waiting for the touch that will raise
me to that state of crazed

where you are delivering

such delight, mixed with just
a tinge of fright
as you send an electrical current through

the nerves of each and every
of my erogenous zones,
and with such skill, such subtlety,
such size.

You are my prize.

The joy may be fleeting,
like our meetings,
quick and pure,
but oh, so much more.
This fantasy of mine may seem
the stuff of smoke and steam,
but you much more than exceed
the silliest of my daydreams.

You bring me to the brink,
play with me, wink,
then you take me beyond and above,
fill me with laughter, light, love.

Then I lay panting and flushed,
but never rushed,
in the cradle of your arms,
languishing in your charms.

You hold me tight,
god, how you excite.
I love the way take me to the edge of delight,
hold me there, poised on the brink,
then you take me all the way,

until I sink
into a moment of purity and calm,
our hands entwined -- palm in palm.

You, you are so much more than all the rest –
the best of the best.
Even when we plot and scheme,

what we got is the stuff of dreams.

copyright 2006 Katherine Andrews

Pt. 3

I Miss

I miss wading in ponds
and the feeling 
of power
when slicing a canoe oar
 through anything with 
true current.

I miss
my incredible strength
and wrapping my legs
around your back
so hard, so hungry,
I was afraid
I would break it and
the grip of a muscle
so unrelenting
it would put any beasts jaws to shame.

I miss
being able to give you
little useless bits and pieces,
scraps of paper
so meaningful and yet so ridiculous
they seemed to reek.

I miss
you rushing onto the porch
so that I would be the first 
to hear your secrets,
and you,
always the first to greet me,
as is if there were some 
invisible race
to see who could reach me 

I miss
Your arms were so hot
my every pore and nerve ending
got soaked with a heat that
turned everything in its path
to molten-golden lava-like liquid

All these things,
all this
and so much more,
Somehow I find myself
exploring each day.

I take from it 
what I will.

All this and
so much more,

I miss.

I want.

copyright 2006 Katherine Andrews