Tag Archives: sex

Sex Doll


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Long hair, thick thighs
Open innocence,
with intense eyes
Soft curve to the hips
delicate lips to kiss
Inviting ass to smack
Small breasts, nipples erect
pointing,
Beckoning me to come close
Your need is programmed in
as you smile just so
nude in relaxed repose,
Legs opening with expectation seeking further investigation
laying newly gifted upon my bed,
On cue, she says ,” What would you have me do, this body is yours and yours alone, take of me of what you will, for I am just your Sex Doll, forever and ever in need of only you.”
“Wrong,” I say
You own me as much as I own you,
for your design from top to bottom
has caused me to become undone
It holds me in thrall
Complete.
Let’s both seek fulfilling
and delicious trouble
my little sex doll.

 

By Philip Wardlow 2018

Desire for You


It’s everything,
this desire for you.
Warmth pervading,
breath catching,
a tight tension of need
to be close.
Cashmere has nothing on the softness
of your pale skin as
two fingertips trace
lines from out to inner
thighs.
Your hips fill my hands all the
while your sweet cinnamon
smell wraps around, clutching,
drawing me in closer
to delve the depths
of you, in all the secret
tastes you offer
your only lover,
me.
So you better know
this desire for you tonight
shall not go to waste.

 

By Philip Wardlow 2018

What a Woman wants


What a Woman Wants~
She walks on by in her tight skirt,
as my brown eyes drink her in and
I say to myself, so it begans.
She smiles and I smile back,
I say hello in a way so she knows that
she matters in this moment to me.
I’m in engaged in her form, her voice.
Her smell of cinnamon must surely
taste like her lips if I were to kiss them.
I make you laugh as I tell you you’re the
sweetest girl I‘ve ever met and that I might just have
to take you home and put you on my toast in the morning
instead of my blackberry jam.
Would I be too forward if I took you by the hand
and looked into your eyes and told you to trust
me with  your whole heart as I wiped
away a tear from the tale you told
me of your last man.
You see, I see you.
I get you, I see your quirks,
I see your moods, I see your passions
and I’m right there baby
Right next to you and I’m
not going anywhere
Now come over here
and let me show you
what love is my
Dear.
By Philip Wardlow 2017

Nothing More


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Nothing would tell me more
about you
than a kiss.
For it would lead my psyche
into yours
on multiple levels
and roads
of desire yet to be explored.
I would know the Intent
of you
The passions wanting to
unfurl and
envelope me in them
I would feel the tensions
dissolve within you
as you grasp at my
nature
as I grasp at yours
My lips upon you,
my hands
gently holding
your cheeks as
you smile at the discovery
of a connection
long sought
long fought
in your soul
All this would be found
in a kiss
Yet, here I am
far across the room
for that
never to
be discovered.

By Philip Wardlow 2017

 

 

The Feels


 

People either embrace the feels
or they fight against it.
Neither is wrong, and neither is
right.
It’s all just timing and circumstance.
Want or Need. Fight or Flight.
There is a glitch in us, for or
against, for whatever reason
we deem important in that slice
of time that it demands it of us.
We move mountains to attain it
or disengage from even the remoteness
of it happening in a flicker of an eyelash.
Fear and anxiety wells up within us
or an earnestness and compulsion
pulls us like a loadstone to the beautiful source
I have seen it in others…I have felt it from others
I have felt it in me.
You can do nothing to fight it.
Simple avoid or engage.
Yet, you need the feels in either aspect, in
the positive or the negative
in order to engage in life,
to be functional
You need that connection to the what-if
of the word or the now of it.
That connection no matter how
tenuous or deep meaning.
You choose your poison in the
dosage you yourself dole out.
I will choose my own and perhaps
we will in a future time
where both
our wills coincide.
Finally meet.

 

 

By Philip Wardlow 2017

The Right Spice


You are the heat I consume
on a cold cold blustery day
as I’m snuggled down deep
with you in bed.
Your aroma floats to me
as a small grin spreads
across my face.
You are a familiar smell
I know very well
Never in doubt,
my little pumpkin spice latte
you permeate me
senses and all.
Your spice is just right.
Biting, sweet, intense
Grabbing me
Compelling me
As I inhale you in.
To finally taste thee…

by Philip Wardlow 2017

Killing the Agony


 

Bob Marley sang, “I don’t want to wait in vain for your love.”

Neither do I.
So get over here little girl,
because waiting for you to come to my bed has been agony,
Sheer as a red red curtain.

Painful in its pronouncement deep down in my
sexual soul.
So please, please
Bring home that honey pot. Yum, yum.
Oh you’re the one, little bear.

Drip,

Drip,

Drip… I won’t miss a drop.

Sting sang, “Let my kingdoms fall into the sea, for I’m mad about you”

Mad, mad, mad like the Hatter,
so come join me in the Chaos
as Order soon finds itself and all becomes calm
within your pretty head as
your body hits the bed.

A kiss on the lips,
a greeting for being missed
A bite on the lips,
a spectacle of compulsion
of what’s to come

You know the drill
Mon ami.
You know it all to well
So let me kill your agony.
Euphorically.

by Philip Wardlow

 

Mystery Girl


She flits
amongst the tangled
night in dreams
that I have not known
Yet the desire is
there to partake
of the darkness
that abounds and
surrounds from within her
Mingle me in your madness
Tangle me in your limbs
crawling across your skin
With my warm lips
against cold body
gradually gaining heat
the more you encompass
me.
Your disguise is my own
you think you wear
unbeknownst.
I know.
Mystery girl,
still a sad
forlon whistling tune
hanging in the wind,
a shadow dimly cast by
a light trapped in a closet
from a future not promised
nor sure
she sits tap, tap, tapping
her index finger
on a desk that hardly
ever saw a word written
upon it.
I listen for
her echo
Deep, hallow,
beautiful
wanting.
I listen for it
in the night
as she flits and flutters
in the dark.

by Philip Wardlow 2017

Mischievous Summer


“Pull, pull, pull the strings of my heart,” she said, “just you pull off these clothes that seem to be in the way between you and me, and I will gladly give you what you pretend to see.”

In your ear, I shall whisper, “Dear, dear, dear , my love knows no bounds, for a dalliance with you is truly profound, well except until the morn. Then it’s on to that cute blonde. You know the one you yourself were with just last week down the street.”

Ah summer,
A fickle thing, a merry thing, a melancholy sad thing
tis almost like that hot beach breeze that whipped on
by as I licked vanilla ice cream off your thighs
It all mingling in my mouth as a gritty sweetness.

You laughed then, telling me that was a ticklish spot
I have since learned of more places upon your
skin where my tongue likes to wander about
and cause you to laugh along with other
sounds…

My grin always matched your grin
as the twinkle in my eyes mirrored yours
in return.
Partners in the clandestine
hand in hand
with a twist of the knob
we entered
into that waiting bedroom
in sweet anticipation
always knowing in
our minds
our mischievous summer
soon would end.

by Philip Wardlow 2017

I want a girl by the band Cake (then totally smashed up and changed by Me.


 
I want a girl with a mind like carbon
who gives life to everything
in my world.
I want a girl who knows me well
and holds me to it.
I want a girl with heels that click
And eyes that dance like fireflies
I want a girl with deep sentiments
Who’s passionate, thorough, and true
She’s playing with her hair
She’s giving me a smile
As her laughter fills my ears
as I  bend her over the chair.
I want a girl with a short skirt and a long jacket.
I want a girl who stays in bed
I want a girl who stays up late
I want a girl with corruptible possibilities
Who’ll go skinny dipping with me on a  first date.
With fingernails that dig deep
And a voice with dark menace that invites me in.
I want a girl with a meteoric sense about her
I want a girl with delicious resolve
At  Barnes and Nobles we will meet periodically
We’ll start to kiss over fantasy and the occasional
sonnet.
She wants a car that uses a stick
She wants a car that will get her there at times
instead of my d*$!
She’s changing her name
From Miss to Mistress
She’s trading her life  for something better not found in life
I want a girl with a short skirt and a long jacket
by Philip Wardlow sort of  2017  🙂