beauty, Desire, erotica, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Heart, Life, Poems, Poetry, Work from Home, Writings

Felt

The unknown are felt,
With hands moving inside,
Feeling the black bra, while
your face turns red with joy of ecstacy.
Everything turns to water, your lips below
turn into a fountain of desire,
and your legs closing with wetness.
Waiting to be touched
Waiting to be consumed
Waiting to be felt

Shashank Bhardwaj

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Books, creative-writing, erotica, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

Warm

Her whispers turned into subtle moans.
The breathe turned warmer and warmer.
Her nails dug deep into the back.
As each inch of the curve is felt by bare cold hands.
She just cannot wait for the climax now.
The lust will spread within her,
With every thrust.
This will be the end and beginning
of the wet warm climax she deserves.

Shashank Bhardwaj

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creative-writing, dream, erotica, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry, Writings

Confetti

Confetti of romance showers over me;
The caress of silk arouses me as I lay in blooms of fantasy;
Clothed in robes of rose petals.

Blossoming lips of pink yearn to be kissed, to be watered by wanton lust, to feel the thorny tongue thrust,.
Trace the thorns down my neck, cause my stem to shiver with delight, grow the passion tonight.
Petals rest upon supple breast, smooth and yielding to feathered fingertips, sweet to hungry lips.

Confetti blanketing my nakedness
Blow them away to expose my womanliness
Unrobed of rose petals.

Panting and moaning in a state of bliss, under the command of your kiss, wildly in column as your tongue enters the heavenly abyss.
Pleasure overwhelmingly intense, as frolicsome body arched in suspense, legs tremble at as the lusting grow too immense.
“More, More” I scream and plead, of the aching, pining, perishing need. Satisfy my ravenous greed.

Confetti of wantonness scattered in disarray;
As I dance my intimate ballet, my sweat my new perfume, fresh bouquet;
Bereft of rose petals.

Petals strewed upon the bed, kaleidoscope of pink and red, as legs further spread.
Fingers grasp at your hair, pushing you ever near, melted into his sizzling affaire.
Taste the bittersweet of my sex, higher my breasts convex as I become closer, ever closer to my apex.
Pussy atingle so good it hurts, at talented tongues good work, I explode like a firework

– Shashank Bhardwaj

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