It had been a few weeks since your last humiliating visit to the mikvah, and the air in your home had grown thick with the tension of what was happening between your wife and Malik. You were nothing more than a silent witness now, your role as a husband replaced by something darker, more primal — your sole purpose was to serve, to be a slave to their desires. Your wife, who had once been so modest and reserved, had shed h...

It Was Shabbat Again The house was awash in the golden flicker of candlelight, the air thick with the comforting scents of freshly baked challah and slow-simmering cholent. It was Shabbat again, and you had spent the day preparing for the sacred pause—a time of rest, reflection, and connection to the Divine. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you stood before the two candles on the dining room table, waving your hands o...

You are a cyborg A mecha minded thing Why wouldn’t you be attracted To those who have proficient knowledge in engineering Why wouldn’t a curious thing such as you not crave A master, to make them better? A solution oriented scientist that holds in their mind the key And knowledge both to your Evolution and your Annihilation? The word Engineer holds within it the same resonance as words like generate, genesis, and genie So...

There's comparative silence in the featureless hotel room. That will soon change. Strip for me. Kneel. There on the floor beyond the bed. Hold my belt in your upturned palms for me, while I circle you. Appraise you. Mmm, so pretty. Now cup one hand between your legs and collect every drip as I spank you with this belt. Yes, right now. I want to mark you. Hear you gasp as the leather slices the air and cracks against your...

I stood underneath the sky as I shielded my eyes. Sunlight reflected off my face. Uncertainty became a part of my life, making me gaze through the mist. A gentle breeze blew, brushing against my chestnut skin. I realized it was still early in the morning. My eyes fell upon a bench, and I settled down. A Train of thoughts running through my mind, everything seemed still. As time passed by, you could see pedestrians walking...

Walking into the house, I drop the keys into the dish, by the door, a little louder than characteristic. She walks in behind me, obviously uneasy. I close the door, lock it, and head to the kitchen. Pouring myself a glass of water I quickly chug it, trying to settle my nerves. It doesn’t work. Only one thing will. I turn around. She is standing at the bottom of the steps. The hem of her shawl in her hands, she shuffles it...

A stray tulip in a meadow near a river framed by smooth, gray stones, Like a path made of water Petals blush-bright open up and out - toward the sun … like flirting with the light Apollo, his curiosity, and his grace, as gentle as his kiss … or his favor The moment silent and thick - like an phallus made of wind The tulip’s petals The eyes of the god Flickering, winking … like the entry of a blushing bride Thinking of her...

Worshipping you. My hands, my mouth. Stroke-caressing, nibble-lick-kiss-sucking from your lips, neck, chest, stomach… over your hips, before taking you into my mouth. Enveloping you until you are hard as I am wet, your need matching mine. Crawling back up you, sinking down onto you. Riding you until nothing else matters, just you and me and now. Knowing that any moment you’ll take my hips and take control and fuck me unti...

The entry to her palacebeautiful, inviting chalice.Welcoming, latte-hued lipsto provide nourishing sips. I near; my senses arouseat altarpiece giving my vows.Paeans for her shall be sungMy offering made by tongue. Kisses, licks, nibbles and such.Sensitive, yet wanting my touch.Fluttering, sucking on her budcoaxing her warm juicy flood. Am I worthy of her favour?Will she be my needed savior?Fleshy sacrifice so freely given...

Flaming angels of spring weave a pastoral tapestryO’er the sleepless, meadowed minds,Entreating the burning softness of summer;Freedom, resurrected in its breath,When warmly winds lick the searching facesInhaled ‘neath the rapture of its tongue. Passion seasons fruit for its victims,Nestled in pain of unrewarding sympathy;Passion is pain when my aching visions ripenTo capture a beckoning of soft-winged flight,In a galaxy,...

Donna’s naked body swept up from the bed and over to the hotel door, her flushed breasts bouncing playfully. With her tangled blonde hair deliberately covered the combination padlock, she unlocked the security chain and brought in the bottle of champagne. She closed the door again with a solid thud and slipped her padlock back on to the chain just as Sam arrived. She giggled happily as Sam buried his face in her hair and...