Charming is as Charming does

What on earth would it take to snake-charm a Snake Charmer? 

I do not yet comprehend how it was done, 

                 just know, that what's done is now done.

The Charmer's charmed this Snake Charmer.   

                                

Enthralled She is

   to maybe, 

                     be His.

                                  Or maybe, He's Hers

So I've heard.

All I know is, 

as the Snake Charmer emerges

from time in His clutch, 

     and finds

Herself, now, more than ever 

 to be more than amazed,

thorough-heated and such

willing and wanting ~

desiring His touch,

He kindles Her higher

by the fire-maze of patterns on flesh 

He is weaving right through Her,

by the careful brush of His rosy-hard hues

again and again, till

She Understands only this

that Her Cobra Headed Lover 

can always deft

killingly choose when sets free His Red Hues. 

But for now, it seems

He seemingly chooses this Charmer

Though he thinks not to harm her

She stumbles, is fazed, as

His charms intimately

graze

Her senses.

Were She wiser, She'd have run, not have stayed

     midst His charms ruddy-displayed, 

  His peacock mesmeric,  well aimed, so well played.

xxx

A Clearer View

There have been many highlights this year. 

Between us, we have shared many different visions:

Flannel hedgehog jammies, men on stilts, bits of churches and beaches in the mailbox, opening cocks on buses, stampede video, July 7^th Vision, Priest 1&2, ‘That’s What I Want’, Paddy McAloon, crying when you came, opening the letter, peeing on Twitter, singing just for me. 

Bob & Jacob Marley.

Cerulean britches, dirty bitches, me in stitches, you in Starbucks, us in dreams.

White light in hospital beds, morphine dreams wtf dreams - wtf connections.

Louise Brooks and London books. Your supermarket or mine. Swiss dreams, leaves in my hand, leaf in a letter. Feeling better. Tim’s with chocolate nipples. Eating under the table.  ‘I love you’ said but not heard at the time.

Rosy hues, cobalt blues, red barns. Willow patterns and faces in windows. Bottomless lust, hands free cumming; You cloaked in my words, me inside your mouth.

A taste of Fiona Apple, Berkeley Square. Tingling mouths in 100-year old bathing huts. Tartan blankets in Our Time. ‘Handfuls of Him inside Her. Tulip Cunt and an unraveling onion.

Café Nerd at the back. The Westbury. Lolling, golling, fucking you gently.

Fenton! Broken wagons, black hole awesomeness, filthy seemails, a rosy warbler and three little words: ‘Oh My Guh’

But the highlight of my year My ‘Darkling’?  

The moment you removed the little bit of protective plastic from your webcam.

Suddenly everything became clear; )

Thank you for making the last 6 months so, so, special. 

For us both.

Nicimos

xxx

Even as a boy ...

Pin-Up Calendar Babes

Hey, check out this Pin-up Calendar, babe. 

Mu GUH you can see everything!
Miss May? I would so kick her back doors in.
Miss June? FILTH.
Miss July? PHWOAR!

Miss January? Nah, she doesn’t really do it for me ; )

                                            Miss May, 23 wants to end world poverty and work with animals

Miss June, 23 is a medical student from Arkansas. Check out the clavicles on that

Miss July, 21 hails from Budapest and enjoys water-sports

Miss January's hobbies include painting and needlecraft


(Images & concept via German ad agency Butter: http://www.butter.de)

Blinded by Lust

Honestly nicimos?  That last post should have come with a warning.  

I've been sore blinded by your humming red beauty and the ever-present solar flare from your trousers.

You've fair made me come over all, oh,I don't know ... bothered and hot.

You make it hard for a good girl to keep her knees together.

Aren't you glad I'm not such a very good girl?

A good girl wouldn't be kept awake late at night.  

Running through her mind all the ways she would make you please her.  

But,

I want what I want, 

when I want it. 

Nicimos, you've suspected a little, I think, that I'm not all hearts and flowers.  Yes, I can be reached through a quick wit and a soaring mind.  And all parts of me are passionate.  That'll get me to the gate.  But it wont make me go through it.   

I don't need you to make me do anything.

I've always had a dirty mind.  Longer than you can imagine.  I'd like to tell you all the scenarios I've played out with my fingers, my mind, and my lovers ... but perhaps that's for another day.

This was me last night, like a kid in a candy store.  What to do what to do, when I can choose from so many different scenarios with you?   

     What should I do?   

  What should I do, 

   first?

Where to begin when I can have anything I want of you?

Is it telling to say that the first things I thought of was

 to bark out raw orders to you?

I got on the edge of the bed, on all fours.

Made you remove my panties with your teeth.















I love the delicious sensation of bent-over bare buttocks and a calling cunny, 
       the weight of my breasts aching for your hands and maybe the wet clasp of your mouth ....  
                           
                      only you ought not be fooled by such a demure posture as this ....  

When it comes to loving, there's truthfully very little demure about me.

You feign to like your girls demure.  But you really don't.

Nice girls finish last with you .  The aggressive one's get all your gold.  

Sure, I appear to be a nice girl.  All smiles and manners.  But you might say it's just to trap you to feed on my honey pot.  
             
         Honestly?   
                              Darling, your ears are but magnificent ...
                                                                                     handles .....

Those who live to tell the tale might admit to you, behind closed doors, 

that the softest sweetmeat morsels are those I allow you to eat.  

When I let you.   

When I tell you to.

          Remember this?   

It was you behind me.  Nibbling like a good boy ought.  Do it right and I won't smack your hard school-boy cock.  

              I liked my secrets.    I still do.   You could be getting your brains banged out every day at lunch-time, but the rest of the school would never have known that.

And if you tried to tell anyone, no one would believe you.   Why?

Because for awhile I circled round you and sniffed you out.  Carefully observing your day to day movements.  Watching your temperament.  Gauging the sweetness.  Deftly feeling out the shapes of your vulnerabilities...  Anticipating the taste of your cock.  And when I was ready, 

      I'd pounce.   But ... not until the hallways were empty.   

      Not until I could be certain that you were alone.  

The reason you'd knew it was futile to tell your friends about this whatever this madness was, was that not a soul would ever have seen us communicating.   In any way.

That way I swam unobtrusively, through your stunned life.  Making inroads into your mind and your fantasies.   (For all the good they might do you).

I was never there to make good your fantasies.  I was there for mine alone.   

There never was a question that I could choose any assignment for you.  That you'd obey me.   Even though you never quite knew what I might ask of you next.

        I like my boys, willing.  Wanting.  Waiting.  

No chitty chat, no love letters passed in the hall, no 'i's dotted with girlish hearts.   If I came a calling in the hallways, it was only to put my hands down your pants and jerk you off as quickly and as slowly as I liked.  

I've got you standing.  Round the corner.  Where anyone might walk in on you with your pants slung down around your hips.  

Your shocked hot cock nursed by my hand .... 

... or if I'm hungry for it, pressed upon by my mouth.  

While you shut your eyes and bit your lip.

And if I made sure your mother wasn't going to be home, that was the only thing you could be sure of.

No wonder the mothers of my legitimate boyfriends gave me the instinctual eye.

But maybe it just takes a predator to know a predator?

But she needn't have worried.

You needn't have worried.

I wasn't going to make you cry,

I was going to make you come.

So this all brings us back to where I saw you last night.  Somewhere, something along the lines of this, when I told you to do it ... reaching up underneath me.  

Me, on all fours with my cunny in your face ...  me barking at you to be doing this ....

At the same moment you were ordered to do ....

Something Very This:

That's more like it!  Now, there's a good boy!

And now you know just a little more about me.  

And I know I'm just what you waited for

Good things cum to he who waits.

xxx

Morning Glory. The Story

Was just reading your words to me again. There's been so much beautiful meaningful stuff put down by you recently. But this was as you say:

'Just WOW'

You asked me if I thrilled just a tiny bit reading them. All seven and three quarter inches of me thrilled. That's also the width of my brain ; )

You do have a power within you to move me in my pants.

That's the kind of thrill you instil xxx

The Windows Have Eyes

The eyes are the windows to the soul, to be sure. 

But what about windows? What can be seen in the eyes of a window?

I walked past this eighteenth century house this morning. 

The maxim that the most interesting things are always at the top of a building holds true.

I don’t know what made me look up, but here were all these features looking down at me from an upper window. I found myself thinking, I bet my special friend would like such wallpaper. 

I could see you before it. I could somehow see you in it. There’s even a lady there peering out over a coffee!

Isn’t it beautiful?