Just Dessert

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And now back to the loving…..

Just Dessert

When he enters
she will be cooking
With an apron
and nothing else
he begins with a kiss
On her nape
his hand cups her breast
then he pours chocolate

She gasps
she was waiting
all day for this
she shuts her eyes
his hand moves
down her belly
she trembles
at his firmness

he pins her
against the counter
he takes her
and she smiles
because she
needed to be taken
they baptize the floor
what are kitchens for

they lick
they touch
slip and slide
as they make love
hunger satisfied
forget about dinner
they wanted
just dessert

Photo borrowed from Google Images.

Devil Girl Diaries – 13 (Taxi Ride)

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Photo taken by moi.

Every man has that one unforgettable woman that will haunt him until his final day; the girl that got away. Allie detested television, vanilla ice cream, and missionary. She explored the depths of her sexuality; while I discovered the heights of my pain. My muse had a nickname. I called her Devil Girl. I write these words to ease my sorrows. My name is Andrew.

This is our story.

Dinner and drinks were over
Perhaps I had one too many
Okay three or four too many
Allie led me out the restaurant
In her high heels and tiny skirt
She hailed a cab
I found comfort against a lamppost
The cab screeched to a halt
Allie pushed me inside
Bumped my head as I entered
Once seated the cab sped off
City Lights flashed like a kaleidoscope from hell
I leaned my head back
Relishing the peaceful night with no antics
Her hands caressed my thigh
I loved these rare moments
She tugged at my pants
“baby, you doing what” I asked
She freed willy
I uttered more drunken words
“you no can do that inside cab here”
It was a suggestion
Not a dare
She did it anyway
I watched the back of her pretty head
My mouth opened to speak
SIGH
cabbie adjusted his rearview mirror
oh, hell the what
my head fell back in ecstasy
I felt heaven
As I raced through hell
I love you Girl Devil

Until next week

Lonely Author: Introducing New Devil Girl Photo

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A warm thank you to all my friends and supporters.

Wanted to take a moment to introduce the new cover photo for my Devil Girl Diaries series.

The model is my spouse Allalidy (nicknamed Allie). She insisted that I use her nickname when I first started penning the series. After our overnight conversations, she reiterated the need to use her photo as well.  In case you are wondering, yes, I have her expressed written consent signed in blood (mine of course) to use this photo.

This photograph was taken by this humble chimp and not by any disturbed wordpress troll.

 

 

Devil Girl Diaries – 12 (Home Sweet Home)

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Every man has that one unforgettable woman that will haunt him until his final day; the girl that got away. Allie detested television, vanilla ice cream, and missionary. She explored the depths of her sexuality; while I discovered the heights of my pain. My muse had a nickname. I called her Devil Girl. I write these words to ease my sorrows. My name is Andrew.

This is our story.

Allie let me plan Friday night sexcapades
I prepped a good dinner
She wore a black negligee
me a white shirt and tie
nothing else
we ate, laughed, flirted
after a little fondling on the couch
she showered
she entered the glowing bedroom
one hundred candles filled the room
I lifted her to toss her on the bed
pushed her face down
I started kissing her feet
moved past her ankles
alternating between soft bites
demanding kisses
slowly worked my way up
She squirmed and sighed
A slap of the butt
Changed the mood
pressed her face against the wall
pulled her hair
slapped her bottom
took what was mine
we baptized every room
the kitchen counter
dining room table
hours later I woke
to find her gazing at the walls
are you okay I asked
she answered with a melancholy smile
I sadly realized
our souls were disconnected
are you addicted to the rush Devil Girl

More next week

Devil Girl Diaries – 11 (Facetime)

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Every man has that one unforgettable woman that will haunt him until his final day; the girl that got away. Allie detested television, vanilla ice cream, and missionary. She explored the depths of her sexuality; while I discovered the heights of my pain. My muse had a nickname. I called her Devil Girl. I write these words to ease my sorrows. My name is Andrew.

This is our story.

Standing in the Macys dressing room
I removed my slacks
My phone rang
It was Allie on facetime
We shared smiles via cell phones
I noticed she wore no blouse
I asked, are you trying something on?
Laughing she fumbled with her cell
she was naked
Allie what are you doing
She smiled and lowered the phone
We weren’t exactly facetiming anymore
Her fingers worked their magic
She groaned loudly
Everyone heard her in my dressing room
Remembering she had my cell headphones
I fumbled with the volume
Take him out she moaned
But I
I want to see him
I flashed myself
Touch him for me she requested
I hesitated then obeyed
She panned the camera along her body
Blood rushed through me
I was breathless
Watching her performance
My head leaned against the wall                                                             minutes seemed like hours
She advised me she was arriving
I was on the same train too
I trembled
I shook
I bit my lip
I saw heaven
In the dressing room of Macys
Minutes later
Everyone peaked out of their stalls
To watch me exit
handing the suit to the dressing room attendant
he asked if everything was to my liking
red face I nodded
can’t we be normal Devil Girl

Until next Saturday

You

You

Loving whispered in my ear
passions making me so weak
kisses igniting my lonely heart
gentle fingers grazed my cheek

Sweaty bodies entwined as one
no I never wanted to let you go
gentle fingers caressed my soul
need you more than you can know

My body groans as I see your face
I knew it was too good to be true
yes tonight I made love to another
another night pretending it was you

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Slave to Love

This piece was inspired by Bryan Ferry’s song “Slave To Love,” which was featured in the movie “9 1/2 Weeks” starring Kim Basinger and Mickey Rourke.

Slave To Love

Chained by desire
He keeps her begging for more
For him she’ll do anything
Be his everything
His angel
His whore

Igniting her passions
Her lover slowly drives her insane
He teases her to the brink
He fulfills her needs
The pleasure
The pain

He is her addiction
A thirst that can never be quenched
She needs it again and again
She’s a slave to love
His siren
His wench

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