Good Morning – A royal awakening for a lover –

“I was dead until you found me, though I breathed. I was sightless, though I could see. And then you came…and I was awakened.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Awakened

Alas, she wakens with breath so sweet that all words long to be formed by her delicious lips. What better way to both live and die than in the mouth of one so delectable…soon I’ll follow them into your caves of pleasure…I find all paths of your perfumed delight leading to home….

I know what will take you from the nether regions of rest my love, I need but spend an hour with your body that responds with eagerness against my flicks of hunger and your passion will run on this beard, while your legs struggle to support the reality that you have not gone to heaven yet, you only visited there by my invitation…
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First published in Opinions Of Eye.com

The Possession of Jay Be

“I don’t want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise 

victoria ann-marie
You weren’t supposed to be there gliding and playing

with the twirl and spin of music dancing and hiding

playfully dodging the inquisition of mind.


Beside the crazy love of fools I’m drinking and dreaming

pouring lasting shots of you in the spinning and flowing

gracefully shaking your skirt in the chill of eve.


I thought to measure long the soul of leaving and fawning

by shear force of the mystical wind forcing and holding

tenderly with gypsy delight you possesses me.

Imp – Making the best of your vile thoughts

“ ‘Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed,
When not to be receives reproach of being,
And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed
Not by our feeling, but by others’ seeing.”
Welcome my dark intruder. Let me tell you about myself. An evil little imp I am, born in the refuse of evil thoughts amassed. Yawn. What awaits this beautiful horrid world today? I grow strong pushing these carts of petty human imaginations. Thinking with no care, they litter my world with debris of vacant, selfish, and wicked thoughts. The perverse thoughts are the best, they’re so malevolent. I love to share these with my friends, with glee showing those thoughts aglow with an undead life, delightful in green and yellow decomposition. I wander through your churches, finding the best pulsating cast off there. Their thoughts never disappear, though let go, they stick to the walls and ceilings of their abodes or float through the air in a stinking mist. My job, of which I am quite partial, is to pick through these thoughts. If humans could see the clutter of stinging stench bearing piles of vain and perverse thoughts they thought no one knew, perhaps they would think with more vigilance. No matter, I love them, collecting them for the fires that burn cold and brewing a thick stew that never satisfies the hungry, nor quenches the thirst of parched wayfarers. That is the end result of their foolish contemplations, dissatisfaction and endless wandering to the next exciting vanity. I take my leave now of your company, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. Now until we meet again, go easy with those vile thoughts of yours, I grow tired of my chore (wink)! Party on my dear fellow, and be sure to let your mind get the best of you, be undisciplined with it as you like for I need a few more trinkets of pulsating collectibles to fulfill my impish delight.

Imp – Making the best of your vile thoughts

“ ‘Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed,
When not to be receives reproach of being,
And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed
Not by our feeling, but by others’ seeing.”
Welcome my dark intruder. Let me tell you about myself. An evil little imp I am, born in the refuse of evil thoughts amassed. Yawn. What awaits this beautiful horrid world today? I grow strong pushing these carts of petty human imaginations. Thinking with no care, they litter my world with debris of vacant, selfish, and wicked thoughts. The perverse thoughts are the best, they’re so malevolent. I love to share these with my friends, with glee showing those thoughts aglow with an undead life, delightful in green and yellow decomposition. I wander through your churches, finding the best pulsating cast off there. Their thoughts never disappear, though let go, they stick to the walls and ceilings of their abodes or float through the air in a stinking mist. My job, of which I am quite partial, is to pick through these thoughts. If humans could see the clutter of stinging stench bearing piles of vain and perverse thoughts they thought no one knew, perhaps they would think with more vigilance. No matter, I love them, collecting them for the fires that burn cold and brewing a thick stew that never satisfies the hungry, nor quenches the thirst of parched wayfarers. That is the end result of their foolish contemplations, dissatisfaction and endless wandering to the next exciting vanity. I take my leave now of your company, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. Now until we meet again, go easy with those vile thoughts of yours, I grow tired of my chore (wink)! Party on my dear fellow, and be sure to let your mind get the best of you, be undisciplined with it as you like for I need a few more trinkets of pulsating collectibles to fulfill my impish delight.