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sanita -> Enter a Sensualist (2/5/2005 8:00:03 AM)
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Hello. i posted this on the 3rd, but it disappeared, and i am not sure if it is coming back, so i decided to repost. i hope Y/you like it. this is the longest of my poems by far. but it reads quickly, i think.
curtain up:
A sensualist
loving to feel,
to glide along the waves of experience.
Tangible air,
tangible sound,
caressed by light and dark,
and sustained by scent.
Naked, soft, strong,
looking around, exploring,
absorbing all,
tasting,
touching,
smelling,
rubbing silk/cotton/leather against skin.
shivering on her own,
finding feelings,
and greedily absorbing them.
Enter Control:
Smiling,
seeing the raw energy,
the flush of pleasure at each new sensation.
Knowing it is time to teach.
A spoken word,
deep,
strong
reaching in and wrapping around her heart,
making her tingle and melt from sound alone.
All senses focused on His presence.
Dropping,
crawling,
stopping,
sitting up,
softly opening,
offering all,
smiling and inviting Control.
Voice first,
taking hearing,
taking speech
asking for answers,
service,
consent,
pleasure,
and accepting truth
next: touch,
stroking,
enjoying,
strumming her nerves with the lightest of caresses…
feeling,
gauging her response.
eyes locking hers to His,
sparks connecting,
her breath slowing..
"It's time"
"oh please, yes Master"
Silk scarf, shutting out light,
velvet dark filling sight.
she sighs, sinking into the darkness…
skin feeling the air for Him,
listening, hearing only breath,
hers? His?
both.
Strong leather around wrists
ankles extending
body guided into place.
no more to choose the input…
now it is to be given..
selected…
measured…
tormenting.
one feeling at a time,
sharp.
smooth,
warm,
cold,
all of His choosing,
all guiding her thirst.
Trembling,
coursing,
energy channeled into the finest pinpoint
power capping it with sharp pressure,
letting it build
not letting it explode.
her senses reeling,
soaring,
grasping for threads…
cries,
whimpers
wanting
needing
begging.
He sees her,
hears the music of her cries,
playing the instrument of her surrender,
drawing moans,
plucking cries,
breathing sighs.
building to her crescendo.
He pauses,
taking away her input and watching her struggle.
waiting,
watching to see if she can.
she can
she surrenders to complete Control,
letting Him hold her on the edge
vibrating in the
one
long
high-wire
note
that holds the chord unfinished.
Her skin reaches out,
eyes straining into velvet dark
feeling His satisfaction,
knowing His pleasure,
waiting His word.
lying atop her,
removing the dark,
her eyes focusing on His smile,
He speaks,
a pinprick in the bubble's edge,
He touches,
filling,
stretching,
stroking,
rending the opening,
allowing release.
Feeling,
seeing,
hearing,
tasting only Him…
she soars.
stage out,
house up,
done.
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