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EASTROTICA EROTIC LITERATURE

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Miss Me - Notebook Clippings

Don’t you miss me?

Do you feel the ghost of me,

Wrapping around your body,

Gripping you tightly?


Doesn’t the pit of your belly ache with craving?

With a need that she just can’t satisfy?

Isn’t your throat parched,

Your tongue dry,

Thirsting for my nectar?


Don’t you miss my songs,

The melodies of whimpers and sighs

Sung to the drum beat of our bodies;

The way you would harmonize with me as we build to a crescendo?


Does the majesty of your vessel long for my worship?

Have you yet forgotten the feeling of being a King?

Have you forgotten the primal ecstasy of conquest over a foe as formidable as yourself?

You’ve always loved a battle, a challenge,

More teeth than howls.


Don’t you miss me?

Don’t you miss the calm after the storm,

The bodies laid to rest, the quiet peace of dawn,

Your soul finally free to wander as it pleases?


Don’t you miss you?

- Monique Chandler

 

Finding Religion

If I told you I had a love affair with a God,
Would you believe me or think my holy hallucinations mere fantasy? 
Well, let me spin you a fantastic recollection with perfect clarity.

He came to me in my sleep, my ageless oneironaut, travelled through different realms and dimensions, through space and thought. 
After landing in my subconscious and building a palace in my dreams, he held hostage my soul, summoning me at his whim.
He whispered to me, that we once were Lovers past and how relieved he was to have found me.
"You don't remember anything, I know," he said,
"But it will all start coming back once I get you in bed."
With no other warning than that and the flash of a mischievous smile, he pressed his lips to mine, sending bolts of lightning running down my spine. 
My clothing came off before I'd even blinked and his body on mine was starting to impair my ability to think. 
"Now, wait, just a second," I tried to breathe, "You're moving too fast." 
I mean, I've never had sex on the first date. 
His response was a low growl and a spank on my ass. 
"I've been separated from you for eons, my love, how long will you make me wait?"
He gazed at me with black opal eyes, set beautifully in his coffee skin, with an expression there is no one word I know of to describe. 
In a single moment, he looked joyful, pained, starved, nostalgic and somehow, like he was seeing sunlight for the first time. 
I saw, reflected in his pupils, lives I'd no recollection of living, women I'd no recollection of being & I understood. 
And it was in understanding that I could deny him no longer. 
With his face in my hands & a knowing smile, I agreed,
"For tonight only, my King, you may resurrect your Queen. 
Conquer me, as you once did the World of Men,
Drink of me and find your thirst for power quenched,
Come into me, my love; wander no more,
Come let Mami wash away the horrors of War."
Needing no further permission, he devoured me whole, his mouth trying to drink in my very soul. With every sip of me, he grew larger; engorged on my energy his fire opal irises ignited, making magma of my very matter. God...don't look at me like that. 
His every move melted me, moulded me, marrying me with misplaced memories. His fingertips reclaimed old roads, mapped out on my skin by countless incarnations past; trails he had traversed thousands of times over.
His hips danced to drum beats previously branded in my flesh. 
Our bodies sang hymns in unfamiliar languages. 
But these breaths, this mingling of skin, this pulsating rhythm of our heartbeats... It was somehow the same as it had always been. 
For a moment, our planets aligned again, causing cataclysm so saccharine, all of my atoms tried to run away from each other.
And all of a sudden, I remembered... His Name. 
I opened my mouth, filling my lungs with air to shout his worship,
And then... 

I woke up.
             

...huh...
                    

          ... What was I dreaming about again?

             - Monique Chandler

 

Dominic's Words

Words:

grind

rock

twine/entwine

bob

spread

circle/encircle

pin

rotate

cup

yank

twitch

quiver

squirm

curl

seize

surge

drip

leak

plunge

push



Encircled and enraptured,

She twitches, close to rapture.

He's seized a part of nature,

Wings spread and thorax pinned,

Her lips are leaking sin.


She bobs like a buoy in the ocean,

Quivers and rocks with every wave.

He plunges into her depths,

And pushed her to be his slave.


She drips the finest wine, and his cup runneth over.

He finds, entwined in her design,

Cinnamon and clover.


Their clockwork bodies grind, rotate and yank

All in time, to fill desire's bottomless tank.

Now she is full but she still squirms when she gets the urge,

To connect again, positive and negative ends, and experience love's surge.

                           - Monique Chandker

 

We Eat Well

Your

Giant Tongue

laps Cosmic Colours

into your mouth,

Sweeping Earth Elements.

When i suck it

it swells and grows

sensitively-so.

Allowing Full Feeding

and Exchange with me.

We Eat Well.

                - Patrice Charles

 

Influence

While recording Dreams

I give you sway

over an Undeniable

Past.

What will you change?

Re-positioning limbs.

Pushing her

into me.

Pushing me

over the edge.

                      - Patrice Charles

 

Churning

I churn until

It is sweet enough.

Squeeze. Release.

Peaking and dipping.

Squeeze. Release.

A frothy wave dancing in

Clear currents.

Stirring sweetly,

Combining beautifully.

It is sweet enough.

                   - Patrice Charles

 

Posession

Snake charmer

that you are.

Crawling up my spine

closing down my eyes,

Parting lips.

my hands trail

after you,

Embracing Myself.

Tracking you,

following your scent

over my body.

trying to Possess,

You make me

Love Myself.

                               - Patrice Charles

 

My Men

I’ve always loved the worlds of my men. Sniffing out closet spaces, buttoning man shirts over my breasts. Fingering dressing table items, spraying cologne on my thighs. Breathing in the bed’s disarray, faint with the sweet sweat of lovemaking; delighting pheromones.

Floor lines grind and blur into a smoothness that makes walking in their space so easy. Oh and hands, how I love to see them spread and stretched out…grasping kitchen knives, holding cigarettes and steering wheels. And the feel of their fingers working into me with the pulse of pleasure, sliding in inch by inch…pulling me into their control.

                                                                                                                                      - Patrice Charles