Category Archives: Sex

Mr. After Hours

Serenaded by jazz congesting this candlelit room,
checking myself for imperfections in this mirror.
As my perfume eloquently sizes up the background,
I wish he would hurry, getting here a bit quicker.

Applying MAC to my lips, I blow a kiss to myself,
leaving a trace of red on my glass reflection.
Wearing this dress befitting my beautiful curves,
not only do I want him to feel, but to see the sensation.

Candles ballroom dance to the sway of my silhouette,
as I patiently wait to indulge in his alluring essence.
He’s my local means to escape, my stress reliever,
oh how I long for our confidential late night sessions.

My midnight snack, he turns me on with his suits and ties,
but when the cufflinks come off, the scent of me goes on.
I call him Mr. After Hours, my nightcap, my guilty pleasure,
I have him all to myself, them I send him right home.

See, he belongs to me by night, my part-time lover,
during the day he has a woman that he claims to adore.
I don’t need his love I only lust for his affection,
a bond of convenience, that one could ever hope for.

He’s usually here by now, my body’s getting anxious,
losing control by the moment, I just may burst.
Starting without him, I shed down to my lingerie;
though he’s supposed to be here to undress me first.

Sweet surrender, appeasing my self-induced temptation,
caresses from my breasts to my raining inner thighs.
Soulful moans; movements to the beat of my own song,

deep breaths and toxic thoughts with his picture in mind.

Lusting for his poisonous kisses I inject on a daily,
licking my lips, it sends chills running down my spine.
I clinch these silk sheets wrapping myself in the times,
circular motions bears exhales and dilating eyes.

Reaching for my love enhancer kept on my nightstand,
pleasures from vibrations own my heart at this moment.
The temperature rises as my urges dig deeper

 from my gentle touches; I’m in love with such atonement.

Climaxes are interrupted by several doorbell chimes,
reluctant to pause but eager for him to delight me more.
I lay there for a moment, teasing him for making me wait,
unclothed as he prefers me I glide towards the front door.

With one hand holding a glass of fine champagne,
I adjust my hair with the other before welcoming him in.
I’m greeted with an unpleasant surprise, a long-haired
woman fair-skinned, dressed to kill with Revolver in hand…

– Ms. Tioko

PHOTO CREDIT:
http://www.kadinvehayat.net/erkekler-neden-evlilikten-korkar/love-man-woman-silhouette-wide-1680×1050-3/

Guilty Pleasures

Waking up in
cold sweats,
dreams about past love.

Lying here
deeply mesmerized;

possessed by
reoccurring thoughts,

love making
excluding faults.

Sensual feelings
erupt
from my sex-driven mind.

A chilled spine and moist sheets…

What is this?

Alone here with no companion,
I’m bugging again.

Modeling this
new lingerie with
only
my reflection as an audience.

Fraudulently denying my
need for
sexual pleasure.

Am I less of a woman if I oblige?

My Guilty Pleasures

– Ms. Tioko

PHOTO CREDIT:
http://impressioniartistiche.blogspot.com/2011/08/drew-darcy.html

Cognitive Bias

She hates that it’s suitable for men
to sex whomever they choose;
saluted, yet not often judged,
they always seem to get excused.

When women adore sex
they claim she’s being too loose;
but there’s this fear of commitment
because her heart’s been abused.

This monster labeled love has
resulted in scorn, hurt and envy;
with no formula for damaged hearts,
so often, the sex would heal injury.

Why does it matter is she’s more
sexual than others appear to be
committed to sex without this love thing,
doesn’t define her wholeheartedly.

It’s just something of a man,
his tone, his scent, his masculinity;
the way he growls during sex
but holds her closely as she sleeps.

Is it of a whore to find an
assortment of men attractive;
or to wonder what they
would  all individually have to offer?

We’re only being human to desire
that which is confidential, but…
how does acting on such thoughts
imply she’s too experimental?

  • Ms. Tioko

PHOTO CREDIT:
http://www.the-broad-side.com/the-sexuality-wars-women-are-under-attack-but-what-about-men

Manic Fornication

Thoughts run together like they’re gang related
Robbing me of emotions leaving me sedated

Stunned like dummy in slump, effects are dictated
Needles to wrists, arouse body fluids, I made it

Anatomic orgasms numbs me til I’m jaded
It’s a self-inflicted high, call it masturbated

Pleasure within bloodline, no incest, just vain sex
Thrusting toxins inside until I shake and lay to rest

Dumbfounded with heart pulsating through chest
High dose tonics paralyze my distress

Lost dialogue sounds from smothered deep breaths
Drained of energy and soul, eyes roll right to left

Unimaginable bliss to reach superb destinations
These are the results of obscure manic fornication

  • Ms. Tioko

PHOTO CREDIT:
http://sciencelens.co.nz/2012/11/16/albert-hofmann-psychedelic/