Sunday, November 30, 2008



A week of good behavior on the road,
Good food and drink with family, friends,
But not much opportunity
To make the beast that has two backs:
Such privacy was rare.
But Saturday quite late, in his abode,
We could at last lie back, chill out,
Get hot and high, and hotter still
Till I at least cried out,
Spoke in inhuman tongues.
Some pair we made:
He pitched, I caught--
Each movement showed
How well his every tab fit all my slots--
Till we could push and pull no more,
And ceased,
Our loads released, our wads shot,
Worse for wear.
But, ah! what pleasure
To entwine like snakes,
To give our best
By doing what it takes.


Come, hold me tight
And turn me to your will.
Let me feel both
The ox-hide and your skin;
Exhale to fill my lungs.
The games begin.
You touch me here--and there--
And there.
A thrill runs through my flesh
As you turn off the light
And turn to press my legs
Between your own.
Your hand explores my flesh,
My blood and bone.
I yield to your embrace;
It feels so right.
At last, I take your weight.
I rest assured
You will move past these games
To give me what I most desire,
To pin me writhing,
But relaxed, and glad
To be so deeply skewered.
The moment when I know
Where we are headed, is bliss.
In bliss, I'm well and truly bedded.


There is a moment,
When we have moved past the first embrace,
The clash of lips, the groping,
When I'm led in, played with, splayed out--
When I'm deaf to every sense
But passion's beat.
That moment [crossroads, watershed]
At last arrives and I await
The move I hope will follow.
When it does, I fall again.
Pushed back, I rise to meet you
And the heat rolls over me
In one consuming blast--
You bind me
And I twist to kiss the rope,
I arch to meet my doom,
My man of men,
And pain dissolves in pleasure.
Oh, it's sweet.
I'm tossed from wave to wave
And bless the sea;
What I had dreaded most
Means most to me...


  1. I marvel at your poetic skills. I am aroused in the reading. . . . and the imagining.

  2. BT:

    It's often easier to be aroused in the imagining than in the flesh, where all kinds of realities impinge on fantasy.

    I make an exception for the Goat, of course: there is, as he has often said, nothing quite like making love to someone who you know loves you...

    Me, I just like looking at him "in delicto."

    We all have our little kinks...