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The Forbidden Fantasy

Poetry By: warlock

Desire of forbidden sex

Submitted:Nov 20, 2012    Reads: 1,427    Comments: 6    Likes: 2   

Seasons and reasons long passed,

but very special gifts still yearn to be given,

passing hidden and private,

in secret between you and I.

At last,


draped in smoothest satin and softest of silk,

yearning to cover your body so beautiful and sexual.

A gown so light and so sheer,

waiting for that most sensual moment,

when it can cascade around you and caress your barest skin.

Barely a mist of fabric,

lightly touching the peaks and valleys of your stunning body,

leaving you visible and open.

The most secret of your body revealed,

quivering in anticipation of the most forbidden of sexual pleasures.

Wanting eyes to see you,

needing hands to touch you,

aching for lips to taste you.

Your warm streams flow with gentle urging,

hot and sweet, to be swallowed slowly,

longingly and savored.

Fingertips softly brush aside the mist of your gown,

leaving your body covered only in candlelight and fantasy.

The slow and gentle exploration of your body begins,

hearts racing as fantasy and reality twine and seek hold.

Desires fulfilled with mouths and hands,

searching and probing in endless discovery.

Lying somewhere between calm and panic,

as the ultimate taboo is broken between you.

Guilt rages against this forbidden moment,

and what your body truly desires.

Amidst pleasure and ecstasy, your body swollen and wet,

you open and quiver in a slow warm crescendo of pleasure.

Hearts beating in rhythm to our bodies,



pulling closer,



needing to be fully inside you.

Hips thrusting and meeting in heat and lust.

Our bodies pausing only at full and complete penetration of you.

Moans rising as arms and legs pull us closer,

settling into the soft and slow pressing and grinding of flesh.

Urging and accepting the most forbidden of unspoken pleasures.

Wanting it to go on,

ever so slowly,

until the last quiver of your body has ceased,

and you are exhausted.

While warm wet streams overflow and trickle,

and seek current through your valleys,

only the softest of kisses,

the beating of hearts,

and the whispering of our thoughts remain.


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