The Patience of the Gifter


The struggle for patience as a man and woman play their parts, taking their turns with each other in this erotic & sensual poem.

Below is the first poem on the site. I shall endeavor to add more. They are surprise snacks, items for you to enjoy in between the meals of erotic quickies.

 * * *

Intent, his eyes they stare

at a body not so wise or pure.

Within its flesh, supple and soft,

he hopes to find a measured peace.

A touch. His fingers ache to move.

But still he must stay until bidden again

no matter what he may pray.


Aware of her admirer, she disrobes slow as sap.

Let him watch, let him wait, with

beggar’s lips that pant.

A woman cruel, with wild ideas,

she offers him a tease.

Her breasts do bounce and her fingers play

when marks down his chest she leaves.


His moan is raw, his need severe,

his ache obvious in its engorged stiffness.

A whisper. A plea. “Please,” he says so quiet.

She laughs and he fights the urges as he’s told to do.

Eyes take in his prize and thankful is he to see.

The woman will be his, patience rewarded,

when his turn begins again.


Teeth and tongue she brings to bare on skin smooth and tan.

He’s forced to obey, what better gift than that?

A dance around him, her hands on him, his patience is an art.

“Do you want me?”

Her pointless question drawing focus.

His nod brings heat and wetness, her body eager, too.

Permission granted. “You may have me.”


Set free by words of command and bliss

the freedom to take and give are returned.

With speed and strength he brings her down

and shows her what she’s unleashed.

When she moans and screams he smiles broad.

Next she’ll beg because two can play

and what a gift that moment will be.


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