Black Poetry : WRINKLED FINGERTIPS

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by garlicsalt99, Dec 3, 2007.

  1. garlicsalt99

    garlicsalt99 Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    WRINKLED FINGERTIPS

    I read her a poem as is my modus operendi
    Having her undivided attention, her whims I suspend by-
    The string of letters that formed the words … that formed the lines
    That formed the phrases … that formed the rhyme
    The rhymes derived from the mind of a certain said erotic poet
    With bold strokes and no boast of one she knows to know it
    With infliction and rhythm used to get a poetic rise
    At some point early in the poem, baby girl bit her lip and closed her eyes
    I told her I wanted to touch her *****, amongst other things
    I wanted to taste and baste her and maker her orgasmic chorus sing
    Her anticipation was like a rose bush … the more desirable, the thornier
    I could see that she was already horny … I wanted to make her hornier
    My intention was to **** baby girl with a verse
    With the words, lines, and phrases that I would many times rehearse
    And at a certain line in the verse, her “candle” was lit
    She started rubbing herself through her panties … rubbing her ****

    I continued my recital and went on to **** her mind
    She continued playing with herself through her panties, with a clitoral finger grind
    Combined with the lyrics, our intimation made for a show
    And watching her masturbate made a certain part of me grow
    With her legs wide open and the moment savored
    My words touched her where she lived, and her breathing became labored
    Which favored a future interaction, once this foreplay was perfected
    That would result in our coital areas being connected
    As I neared the end of verse one of a multi-verse rhyme
    I noticed that she became more ecstatic with the passing of time
    And from the time I started my recital to the moments end, since
    Her rubbing and her breathing had become all-the-more intense
    Then it started … I could tell from the sounds that she voiced
    That the rubbing of her crotch caused her to get moist
    And it was at that moment when she said “Oh ****!” and began to move her hips
    That the wet spot on her panties crotch grew exponentially and she wet her fingertips

    Voyeuristically excited, watching my masturbating pantomime
    I started verse two of a sexually charged erotic rhyme
    Which was prime for the occasion with the events that just occurred
    Baby girl ****** herself, and bust a nut at mere words
    The foreplay was in its second phase as was baby girl in her pleasure
    Having just expelled her liquid loot – her orgasmic treasure
    I chose my words to fit the mood, and she continued to grind
    I talked flirty and dirty to baby girl, and she responded in kind
    By now she had move the crotch of her panties to the side
    Undulating her hips in such a way, that she seemed to slide -
    In the seat hat she sat in, and she did so with flair
    With her finger grind and her hip swivel, it seemed as if she was ******* the chair
    In the air was the smell of ***** and fresh vaginal expulsion
    Which made my privates writhe with pressure, and her body twitch in convulsion
    Noticing for a time … since the time her ***** was blown
    In the excitement I developed a pre-cum wetness of my own

    The exposed lips of her ***** made for a curious visual
    With the wetness on her chair alluding to residual -
    Ecstasy that remained while reciting my erotic narrative
    The would later lead to us both fulfilling our biological imperative
    The words that I allowed to springboard from my tongue
    Along with the air that filled the space of each lung
    Charged the atmosphere with a sex-tricity that I don’t need to mention
    Making tighter the tautness of our sexual tension
    I could smell her ***** from where I sat, and it smelled fresh
    Aroused by the sight of her rubbing her flesh
    A knot rose through my pants as I sat and recited
    When she opened her eyes and saw my bulge her tone was *** excited
    At a point in my recital, her body tensed up
    She was about to release more of herself that was bottled and pent up
    Then it happened, she popped, careful not to sting her lips
    Her fingers were so wet she had wrinkled fingertips

    Pluralistically stimulated by the sight before my eyes
    On the edge of my seat as baby-girls’ ***** repeatedly cries
    Twat tears … all over the chair that she sits in
    Rubbing herself, girded by the wet pair of panties her cunts’ having fits in
    She masturbates in a manner that’s uninhibited and free
    And so turned on by this exhibition, I can barely recite verse three
    Of this rhyme that initiated an act of solo wetness
    And affected in me a very stiff, and stern erectness
    She was ******* herself in true form when her ***** sputtered and spat
    I could feel the erogenous tension even from where I sat
    In this real life drama that played out, of which I would neither scorn or scoff
    Particularly when she raised the stakes of my already risen nature, and slid her panties off
    With a painful bulge in my pants, I continued my recital
    Letting the words from verse three fall from my lips: sounds, syllables and title
    Continuing to **** her literary self with the words from my mouth
    As she stimulated the gushings of her geographical south

    With wit and wanton word play I ravage her inner self
    Her hips move with the power of the earth moving a continental shelf
    With fingering action hotter than a summer time in South Carolina
    Baby-girl liberally and masterfully masturbated her vagina
    She had a fever that matched temperatures of latitudes below the Tropic of Cancer
    Her fingers moved with the grace of a seasoned tap dancer
    Pick up the pace of the swirling and rubbing upon getting another nut
    Then slowing down to a unhurried massage – fingers in and out of her vaginal cut
    Squirming in her seat … is sexual hot chocolate
    With a wet chair, and in the air, the scent of female ejaculate
    Rousing the lips of her ***** … puffed in a pucker
    She Intermittently takes her masturbating fingers to her mouth, and makes like a sucker
    As she stirs up the action about her pubic area like a bartender stirs drinks
    I sensed her erotic spasms reaching their climax, in anxious moments my being sinks
    Then it happened … action hotter than coffee that forces one to take single sips
    She came a river, resulting in the wrinkling of her fingertips

    There’s a look in my eye that says "I want to see more"
    Being visually teased ... and rocked to my core
    Citing simple stanzas stimulated by lewd linguistic lore
    With the raising of an eyebrow I start to recite verse four
    While wondering the written rhymes in my memories store
    I can't help but notice the moist panties on the floor
    And with the strumming of exposed feminine genitalia that is hard to ignore
    At times, rubbing herself so rapidly it seems she intends to rub herself sore
    Her ***** spits and spritz like the peeling of orange zest
    Nuttting repeatedly, her ***** pleads 'no contest'
    As I sound the syllables that makes the 'nasty *****' in her sing
    Causing her to further gratify her naughty nook, making her hips swing
    She's very animated ... and very, very moist
    Effortlessly making it rain ... her ecstasy is voiced
    Giving me a visual that will for a long time linger
    Having now nutted a few times, she works her soggy fingers

    The rhyme called for her to spank her ***** and she spanked it in a pat
    The rhyme called for her to **** herself ... and she did just that
    There was a line in the rhyme that called for the moving of her hips
    There were words in the verse calling for her to suck her middle finger and lick her lips
    The verse called for her to move her body like the flickering moments of a flame
    While self-digitizing her *****, she responded to the same
    The lyrics were in rhythm to how in this moment, we grooved
    Narrating a scene of a masturbating mistress, with a T-shirt on, and the panties removed
    The fourth installment of my rhyme put to rest, questions of how, who, and what
    And very plainly, one line said "I wanna' make you nut"
    Upon hearing the words of that line she responded to my command
    And came yet another time ... all over her hand
    Having had played with her puzzle and the pieces now in place
    With the forte for foreplay going to another level, and a smile on my face
    Her cum-stained digits finding their way to my lips, serving as finger dips
    My tongue tastes' the essence of the *****, on her wrinkled fingertips

    Written by: K-JiO
    © 2007
     
  2. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    Man i tell u this picture painted had me wondering if those was the same
    wrinkled fingertips i tasted as she went deep and cascaded out ......wow !
    this stole my mind

    RED ALERT !!!!!!
    K~JiO
     
  3. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    Man i tell u this picture painted had me wondering if those was the same
    wrinkled fingertips i tasted as she went deep and cascaded out ......wow !
    this stole my mind

    RED ALERT !!!!!!
    K~JiO
     
  4. watzinaname

    watzinaname Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    You could at least have a glass of water ready for your readers... This was eloquent and saucy at the same time, with words sensually planted just so. Blazing write.
     
  5. garlicsalt99

    garlicsalt99 Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Thanx for the read :)

    Rich and watzinaname ... thankx for the read. I'm always anxious posting here, because I never know whether or not my writings will be deleted ... lol

    Thanx again.
     
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