|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
AshenShgr
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Here for the same reasons as everyone else, with a twist I'm proud of and comfortable with...all you have to do is ask!
Goreans welcome.
I tend to prefer men at least 35 years old and I'm definitely comfortable with those older yet. but admit these are not hard and fast rules...there are always exceptions!
Now on to the kicker because it's true...honesty counts. I'm not here looking for my Knight on a silver charger to come carry me away. I'm probably not even looking for You! My life is wonderful, complete with friends, lovers and all it takes to realize I'm truly lucky. The craving, the need to please... the vulnerability I seek is not, like so many others would have it, something I can't live without nor is it something I can easily imagine giving up all I have in exchange. What does it mean You ask? Can You read between the lines?
I'm involved, happily so. I'm not looking to be Your one and only nor do I anticipate You pulling me away from my life to be exclusively Yours. You can however, should this fit into Your life, be Master.
I wonder...will this stop the deluge of mail, will people realize that there's a real person here...not just a monitor full of pretty words?
Hmmmm, words...aren't they wonderful! I'd ask You please...be able to write and express Yourself.
Oh and by the way...no, that's not me, it's a piece of work by a man name of Luis Royo... just something I find erotic enough I like to share it in hopes of providing some pleasure.
So there it is, my piece of honesty...my offering. Herein lies danger!
|
|
|
|
|
|
Not my writing...just a poem I've always loved. It's best read in journal format.
|
Do you know an equivalent poem... that of a female for her Master..I'd love it if you'd share.
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
Pablo Neruda
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
|
| |
| Age: 20 |
| Albany,
New York |
|
|
|
| | |
