Wildlings

*
Her

Severan kneels close
Looking at her eyes
Until her hands cease
Twisting the sheets.

Tongue lashing the sweat from his
Left nipple she pushes him back
Onto the solid wood frame,
And opens her lips

To kiss him with passion
Where he always loved her most
 - the triangle of his throat.
Her wet pulsing tongue.
*
(c) Cameron Wilding 2009. All rights reserved.

Posted in News, Poems | Tagged love, poem, sex | 2 Comments

2 Responses

1. on August 22, 2009 at 4:51 am | Reply S.L. Corsua

   I really, REALLY like how you’ve ended this. That last image fires up the imagination like it’s Fourth of July. ;)

   Cheers.

   
   
2. on September 8, 2009 at 10:25 pm | Reply wildlings

   I wasn’t sure if I should post this poem as it still feels like a sketch to me … unfinished. But it was the last part that made me decide to chuck it up here anyway ;-)

   I have your site open in one of my browser tabs, I promise to read it soon, but … I suck, so it might not be soon:)

   Thanks for commenting. It’s nice when people actually take the time aye.

   Cheers,
   Cam