The beauty of her countenance is
but a prelude to the beauty of her soul.
She radiates the warmth of love,
and she is amazingly sensual.
Take note of the utterances of her heart
to know that she has been deeply hurt;
In her healing, she has emerged triumphant
And is more valuable than diamonds in her worth.
Love’s secret depths are only found when tears are shed
And the strength of its power is taken to the edge,
When circumstances seem insurmountable and at the end;
It is only then, that it is truly tested and the beauty of its
intensity and potency is manifested.
Starved for an orgasm, she kept saying to him, Baby, please make me cum.
She really enjoyed feeling the depths of the girth and length of his shaft,
but on that particular night, he knew that her body craved
the skillful use of his tongue to make the euphoria last.
He started by softly and passionately kissing between her thighs,
then with the tip of his stiffened tongue, he talentedly teased her ass;
he then paused and whispered to her, Suck your fingers then rub your clit while I do this. Through heavy breaths she responded, Okay baby; I thought you’d never ask.
He kept skillfully using his tongue to please her, while at the same time,
slowly sliding his fingers rhythmically and passionately in and out of her.
Without being asked, he longingly ventured lower so his tongue could explore her ass.
He teased her as he went deeper, looking into her eyes directly as she begged for more;
She told him seductively that she needed him and that she wanted to be his whore.
She held on long to savor the pleasure, but unable to take it anymore,
she let go — drenching his face with the wetness of her squirting organ—
and muffling her erotic screams in the softness of her white pillows;
her face of erotic euphoria slightly turned and pressed against the headboard.
Sexy stiletto knee high boots compliment
her denim jacket and black leather cat suit;
with fuchsia lipstick and gold earrings,
she is an attraction that is way more than cute.
Her walk is savage, and her heels are sexier than the average;
concrete and her boots are a perfect marriage.
Even without her speaking her stilettos say hello.
Drops of rain that run off of her heels are sensual.
If she should scuff her leather boots that would be incidental,
but in her sex appeal, it would be hardly noticeable;
she had to learn to walk in three inch heels,
but she graduated to six inches and is highly capable.
She conditions her heels with leather shoe cream
to keep them looking new, and also to keep them pliable.
She ranks her stiletto boots in the top three of her collection
because they are sexy in any weather and reliable.
On my way into to the city, I saw you on the 2;
you were wearing gold open toe heels
and a deep V neck dress that was blue.
The color of your dress matched the color
of your pedicure, which I noticed was new.
You had hazel eyes and a big curl hairdo—
also, you were adorned in a tennis bracelet
and a necklace with a charm that said, I Love You.
In that moment, I wondered who was so lucky to have you
and if his was love was really pure and true.
To be polite, I glanced again, but I did not stare;
in your seat, you were like a goddess sitting on a golden chair.
My heart said to me, Victor, compliment her respectfully,
but my tongue whispered coldly, Don’t you dare.
I laughed when something suddenly came to mind,
but I was unprepared in my astonishment, when
you got up for your stop and said to me beautifully
as you walked out, I like your smile.
Still, I search for lost parts of my heart that many lovers kept;
But I didn’t know I was so deeply wounded until I was near death
When true love left, and in darkness I sorely wept.
In the day she rests, and at night, she feeds from the blood of punctured necks.
She entices the men she selects, to suck and lick the erogenous nipples of her breasts
and enter the depths of her wetness before they take their last breaths.
She is an erotic vampiress, who enjoys playing with herself in the stillness of darkness.
Remnants of blood that she drinks are licked from her lips adding to her excitement,
until she releases intensely, deciding to taste the passion that drips from her fingers.
Her sexual tones are beautiful, like the voices of many soprano opera singers;
until the dawning of the morning, she allows her intense eroticism to linger—
piercing the darkness with screams of pleasure until the time comes for her slumber.
If I love with everything within me again, will again my heart be broken?
Should I even recall the pain that deeply wounded me, or should it remain unspoken?
If I love again, should I love cautiously or with reckless abandon?
My intricacies are a part of me, but will I be granted understanding?
For three seasons, there was beautiful intimacy, but should I hold her in my memories?
Does my heart betray me when I say her name inadvertently?
With so many past lovers, why would my soul hold onto to her so tightly?
Should I be angry with my own heart because it loves so deeply?
Should I have ignored her betrayal because she kissed so sweetly?
Did I truly know the depths of her, or was I blinded by her beauty?
In the height of our intimacy what were the words that she whispered to me?
Is not the foremost appeal of a seductress her sensual mystery?
Do I weep for myself, or do I weep for her because of the mistrust and anguish she carried?
Intimate Compositions 