She's Perfect  

eriedragon4 58M
2737 posts
3/24/2006 10:39 pm

Last Read:
3/25/2006 1:23 pm

She's Perfect


She's Perfect

Nothing has ever been peer, nor has any another compared to are the splendor of a crisp blue waterfall, soft, radiant beams, amber colors
from marble fireplace cinders, a full moon with waltzing, cushion velvet shadows, beyond all written terms in a multiple volume super thesaurus, and light years from this versifier's captured tatters, reverent visions,
rainbow descriptions and dreamy thoughts of what can be.

A woman this time who totally satisfies and completes me, though with your hidden temper, the wit I brave to cherish, treasure and adore you only at distances you considers safe. Any reservations between us are like
slingshots, piercing arrows that travel deep in one direction, and retaliate to the other by throwing hatchets to split open the painful memories of lost
embryos floating in purgatory wombs.

Still, your glowing resplendency blinds me to authenticity, miracles happen, lingering illnesses are abruptly cured and you become mystified as if gazing
into the face of an angel, ravishingly beautiful, yet such a terrifying tiger I know you can be, both a pure white dove and contemptible snake, a winged seraphim who could easily seduce and enchant any non-engaged,
traveling man by playing his stiff flute, musically flying him halfway to heaven then dropping him straight down into the burning, flaming pits of hell, vicious as I promise to the nth power.

A lady so confident you never keep your selfish desires secret. You chases after them like a herd of wild, untamed Appaloosa, as I stand in awe, bewildered in a cloud of dust, shaking nervously like strung bones from the tremors, roars causing earthquakes to thunder my already unstable ground, making me wonder where you went, until I learn the lessons of your driving astrological and hormonal moods, either surrender to your ponies, let them gallop unhaltered, or I get hoofed, run over and trampled.

I find you pursuing all you craves and yearns until totally collapsing from the pace, eager to be born again in the mid-afternoon of life, having stayed out late to brew your ancestry only to rise in the early morning of your dying thirty, forty-something years, like Aurora with the added determination and stamina of a hungry predator a night. You quickly shower your past, dresses like Venus, every hair perfect, a body that flirtatiously
melts, you race up mountains to howl with sister freedoms and dance a blaze beneath the solstice stars.

You are the matriarch who is everything a mother's kindness could be, the mother and father extraordinaire I always hoped for but never had, the manicured nonpartisan hand I wish to hold and transform into coveted, padlock bedroom affection, your every aspiration and all you seek to showcase at public displays. Yet, carefully I treat you with regard, knowing
all too well you can cut with the precision of a barber's straight razor, despite protests of voice-activated pleasure, then mend your assassin wound with a single smile, wink of an eye, and chase away my hard throbbing torments with one, slippery wet kiss.

This temptress of my libido appears who is utterly a dream comes true, a total composite of everything exquisite I have ever seen, fantasized or prospect
to experience. It is like a marriage to seven horny wives with amnesia, a nirvana and apocalypse of sexual morality blended together in one precious, inviting, treasured mold, a tenderly new ripe fascination so perfect it actually tempts you into thinking, ... do I bite these big red apples and savor them or count my blessings, turn quickly to cover popping genitalia,
and flee before becoming a shameless slave to arousals whose rewards may not equal the tantamount rejections, nor the potential loss of unimpaired sanity?

As if some adventurous romantic Genie were granting me wishes, making me shout out your persuasions while moving closer to rub my tarnished, magic
lamp. You, my desert oasis and belly dancer, castle invention and every bewitching fear, all I will live and die for: a fresh squeezed citrus drink,
highland water, ocean breezes, cleansing spring rain, rolling hills glistening in the sun, lighthouse beacons that lead me to safety, couscous salads, brown rice, tofu, flower and herb remedies, plus all my body nakedly

Feminine voice so delicate and sweet that it can lure me unswerving from a sugar addiction to construct a ginger bread house, your "baby pul-eezee" a sweet siren call to my fantasies, and within seconds have me gulping the
bitter dehydrating salt from a raging sea, else entice me with innocent whispers and moans into savoring the candied nectar of your flowing juices, smooth as honey but, then briskly as a top spin me around, feed me the PMS attitudes of spoiled rotten fruit, sting quicker than a bumble bee, bite like a Hammerhead shark, and chop the grapes from my erect, most prized vine while you are bright eyed, two-stepping and laughing.

Yet despite the risks, you are the one whom I would gladly shield bullets for, surrender my being and plummet chest first onto a carpet of raised swords to save from pirates. A woman of mystery, ritzy, posh, elegant and lush who can also be a tremendous evil, burn holes in me with your eyes, summon up demons that will carve, slice, and gash my emotions, swing
sharpened claws that draw real blood, the risks terrify me, rejection more painful then memories of death, but Oooooo......, be so, so innocent, and like a surgeon's stitches restore, soothe every sore with a hug, gentle
touch from your delicate fingers, or by passing the up nostril consuming scents that I snare when you changes your satiny panties.

This opposite of you is the capacity caregiver of all children, the one chosen to nurture earth's harvest, the reality of all my training, but, an image who can also gift with wedding goblets full of lethal poison. A drink
I affably accept for a chance to touch your jagged corals, soft rose petals, and run my tongue across the smooth, shaven expanse, fluttering hollow in
search of your steaming gossamer vent. This melting mist is your Aphrodite of phallic plunder, a transitory exoneration of all your universal failings and fleeting self worth, your flight of fancy elevation to mundane eminence, a captured Cleopatra, a Sultan's vernal mate who could easily dethrone my self-appointed monarchy, proclaim me a beggar, and speak between grins how
lucky I am to have escaped the hangman's knot.

Indeed, you are the one I most lust after in the moment who has the only power to control me. You are all that is passionate and all that could kill, your invitation to see the glory of God or the last inquest to address the
baited captivations of the devil, a path leading to salvation or possibly the death of my soul. You are both happiness and anguish, final eliminator of all loneliness, every heart's joy and suffering, all that I long for and
most of what my mind dreads. However, this could be part of it, or none of it, if I risk gambling everything, and....

Do I dare? Can I possibly writhe through the torturous ecstasy of hope, the drug you shiver about, my dread?

Seeking, yet never daring to take the tumultuous plunge into what I cannot hope for...

LadytoPleaseYou 65F
5447 posts
3/25/2006 9:18 am

If you wish, you may admire me from afar upon the pedestle where you have placed me, dressed in blazing white silks and satins by the angels of heaven that you commanded to do your bidding. In my hair a wreath of unearthly flowers adorn where cherubs tenderly placed each one...
I can stand here forever as you and others gaze upon me in amazement and wonder. Some may worship at my feet and offer their precious posessions in return for answered prayers, while you tear off page after page of rhymes written in adoration of my fine attributes. The words flowing without end adding to the mystique that surrounds me like a mist dark in it's deep whiteness hiding me from clear view.
But if you wish to touch your lips against mine and taste the sweetness of the wine of my mouth; if you fingertips will loose the pen and crave instead to caress my skin; if you desire to see the fires of lust ignite in my eyes and your tongue to taste the sweet nectar of my arousal at the very moment our eyes meet. If you truly long to sink your hard flesh into the opening to my soul....then come to me. Lift me down so I may take my place at your side. My desire is not be gazed upon from afar, but ravished in flames of passion. Take me, not with your pen and words, but with your body in mine.

PENIS CHARMING....where are you?

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