This space represents the sights and sounds that I enjoy . I post pictures here that I have seen on the web and do not claim ownership unless specifically stated. If you would like me to remove your copyrighted photographs, please inform me and I will do so immediately. I enjoy landscapes, unique views of architecture, the effect light has on anything, sensual and sometimes lusty pictures and pretty much anything that attracts my eye. Visit as much you wish and enjoy yourself. If you wish to reblog feel free to do so.

Please note that the content of these pages is for individuals above the age of 18 only. There is significant erotic content and if that offends you please do not go further.

 

Dominant and submission—a dance
of intense passion.
of sensuality and sexuality.
of give and take.
of primal and instinctual.
of surrender and control.

Woven by two illusion artists.
Bright light and dark shadows
create a beautiful other space.

When one rushes,
one tends to miss the point,
all together.

i don’t want You for fuck me;
fucking is for mortal.
i want You to slowly…

DEVOUR me.

tanglejan ♒ (via tanglejan)

morass of lexicon

wordrummager:

delight in sound and texture of lexicon
escapes as harsh sibilance whips

my own tongue an enemy
finding meat and bone but no sinew nor heart

trying to free thoughts of beauty and peace
is like untangling kite string

I gnaw on pulpy masses of text
dipping into a morass of swept-away hyperbole

I was told there are only shadows of choices
in the end we are what we were

denial of change in stagnant mires
enfolds as gasps of wonder escape

skin senses

wordrummager:

pulled taut in the sun
wrinkled when stewed in water
tingling after a deep kiss
burning after a harsh slap

rough against fuzzy blankets
soft against warm sand
salty and sweet and tangy

barrage of sensations
translating the outside world inward

we have skin for a reason

the art of shower selfies

wordrummager:

almost scorched
soothed
with the right light
Vermeer would be able to see that spot
shadows shifting shrugging
splash proof case
edging
close but not clean
by a long shot

alley cat

wordrummager:

loosen the hold, if you please
I’m choking
she said
trying to turn her head
to watch as people passed by

all in a hurry
faster and faster they moved
she was tethered to a post
in the small alley
so close to the living, breathing city
but far enough
that no one would see or hear her

which was a shame
as she had a lovely voice
which she liked to exercise
by harmonizing
with the din of traffic

mighty ache

wordrummager:

I have a mighty ache
for your tongue and fingers
to weave me and wreck me
for the quiet of the day
to disappear
into a screaming night

labelledamesansdice:

My fingers trail over
a moistened mound
to greet you

Please— make love
to me

dinner is over

wordrummager:

I just want to drink you in
every nuance, lifted brow
surprised to see my empty plate
I don’t recall tasting anything
all I can think is anticipating tasting you

Rifling through my scanties…

wordrummager:

softly, quietly
smoothing aside cotton and satin and lace
delving deeply
plucking morsels for deliberate display

took the time
to know writer
there’s more hidden beneath
now savor



… that feeling when someone’s “liked” a poem of mine that could only be found by looking through my archives. Flatteringly refreshingly intimate somehow. 

ablutionarily

wordrummager:

bring the tiki torches
as I sing in the shower
crack the window
let frigid breezes melt

scoop chocolate
from the bubbling cauldron
scrape over waffles
satyrs need sustenance

steamy sounds trump accuracy
as we fumble excitedly in our zest
wrap with sturdy twine
keep close the scene

equilux

wordrummager:

you smell of salty earth
and taste of leather-bound books
you feel like rough river rock
against my soft moss
you look painted from rich oils
while sounding like plucked bass

our nights are autumn
our days are spring

azureus-x:

cross your ankles
behind my neck
so i can slip right in
and fill you up
with a bit of me

Looking Down

herdivinedesire:

All I could feel,
Was his,
Facial hair,
Tickle my skin,
As I wove my fingers,
Through his hair,
I gazed down,
And admired the view,
Of him,
Pleasuring me.

Frailed nerves,
Wore me down,
And stress,
All it took,
Was his tongue,
To heal me,
As he bathed me,
In pleasure.

I think I’m awake

wordrummager:

… if it was only a dream
why is my skin tingling
and where did these marks come from?