Help Wanted

I wanna explore pure ectasy as never before,

as we do the dirty from the bed to the floor.

To be dominated while turning you out....

in a act of....should we say "deep love making"

I have more than half of what it takes....

but make no mistake...

it's a party that involves 3...

thats what i said ....a sexy fine man and me.

I consider my self a silver dollar,

so "ladies only" if u are interested holla!

I'm 5 ft 4 thick in the thighs.....enough to keep ur kitty wet and my man at a rise.

"only the serious need apply"....

let us be the dirty shyt to get u high

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Californias Dreams

Some times when your feeling down and blue,

Jest think of the cost,

Then you will feel better,

California's Dreams don't wake you up at night,

California's dreams are your dreams,

California's dreams will keep you guessing,

some of California's dreams are not where,

you are at.

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Beige Innuendo


An innuendo is an implication

Your high-yellow skin is the highest imputation.

   Beige Innuendo I deem as your name,

   because the simplest sight of you drives me insane.

Tan, apricot, and the lightest brown

is your body accenting sexual sound.

   "What is the color of a ripened peach?"

    Its that Beige Innuendo I do frantically beseech.

Glazed with honey,

glistening like a day called sunny

your body is a pleasant hint

to my sensual sense of scent.

   Intonated by the light of radiating sun rays,

   your toned skin is a suggestion of the coming intimate days.

Mysterious intimation of beige intuitions,

with your allusive eyes you see my exhibitions.

   Your innuendo of color overshadows my lost lover of


       for whom my love is excessively overgrown.

"Is your insinuation a fact or a stare?"

because your eyes don't lie and make me fully aware.

   Aware I am of your not-so-hidden secret,

   though you try so hard to seal it in dark creases.

High-Yellow Blues you can say that I have,

but your false outer shell makes my soul laugh.

   Beige Innuendo is the greatest reference to me,

   an opportune time with you I hope will soon be.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poem started out as an assignment for English but somehow transformed into a portrait of my slightly
dysfunctional sexual attraction to an unnamed individual.

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My flapper girl where had you been?

I've been looking all over the world for you,

I still remember the last time I saw you

You were at that big dance with me back in the 20's

You were as always, looking so happy and chic,

Having so much fun,carefree!

Laughing and dancing all night long

Kissing and teasing me a lot too!

My flapper girl, what has become of you?

Since that night, a long time ago

I do still remember you, as if was yesterday

You dancing all night long with me and every guy!

View ladydp2000's Full Portfolio

Black Love

Two lovers bonded together by a common kindred

and separated by the torturing of their souls,

the Black Man and the Black Woman meet

under the shimmering moonlight and calm

blackness of the night sky.


Drawing closer and closer to each other by their

strong attraction of adulation,

the two lovers are embraced by the soothing

warm winds blowing off the still black waters

of the ocean.

The Black Man is running to hold her

to caress her

to adore her

to guide her.

The Black Woman is running to feel him

to kiss him

to comfort him

to assure him.


When the two lovers finally meet,

they aggressively cleave to each other while

their souls are stitched together by the

awesome power of Black Love.

Separating ever so slightly,

the Black Man vertically hoists the ample body

of the Black Woman high up into the shimmering

moonlight and calm blackness of the night sky.

Appearing to the world as a graceful

Black silhouette pressed into the shimmering

moonlight and calm blackness of the night sky,

the Black Woman is passion reincarnated

in human form.


"Hail to Black Love!" speak the warm winds blowing off

the still Black waters of the ocean.

"Hail to Black Love!" speak the rolling hills of the

Black landscape.

"Hail to Black Love!" speak the stars and the moon

enveloped in the Black sky.

"Hail to Black Love!" speaks the whole universe in

unison as it gazes upon this truly opulent spectacle

of the presentation of Black Love.

The Black Man lowers the Black Woman down to the ground,

never letting his eyes leave the very sight of her.

He sees black textured hair,

round inkwell eyes,

and a voluptuous ebony body accented by

the light of the moon.

The Black Woman sees the brawn darkness of his chest,

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Black love is indeed a "beautiful thang!" This poem wonderfully paints an image of the many spectrums of beauty in BLACK.

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In Fanciful Dreams

There should be a time every night,

when your spirit escapes in a wondrous delight.

Your thoughts can begin to wander,

to here and to there, then to hither and yonder.

Where fantasies trapped,

‘tween fiction and fact,

and the mind disengages to ponder.

Imagine a fanciful dream,

some whimsical thought with a sensuous theme.

Perhaps we’ll meet for awhile,

to allure, and seduce,  I might even beguile.

Then capture your heart,

before you depart,

with a kiss, and my cute boyish smile.

Do you think we could fall in love,

amidst all the stars in the heavens above?

In dreams, your whatever I need,

you’re my wildest fantasy, oh yes indeed.

My lover and mate,

in prearranged fate,

who knows where these visions can lead.

Come join in my dreams for the night,

lay back and relax, let your passions ignite.

I’m sure if our thoughts could combine,

it might be our karma, a predestined sign.

Toss cares to the wind,

let the fantasy in,

then we’ll share with the world in a rhyme.

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A Naughty Mind

I conger in this naughty mind,

those objects of desire,

who fill my every wanton need,

and set my heart afire.

With hair of auburn, tresses gold,

sometimes brown or red,

she’s ample, thin, or in between,

a tart, perhaps well bred.

Each night my mind can wander off

to plot intrigue and scheme,

and plan a different rendezvous,

a new erotic theme.

She’ll be a damsel in distress,

perhaps a serving wench.

A nurse to take my temperature,

a sexy maid that’s French.

She might be a contortionist,

with arms and legs askew.

Bent backwards like a pretzel,

that’s some position, whew!

Perhaps I’ll be a captured spy,

with secrets in my head.

She’ll torture me, to loose my tongue,

spread-eagled on her bed.

She’ll be a famous specialist,

a doctor, quite well-off.

She asks me to remove my clothes,

then turn my head and cough.

My mistress gives out punishment,

with spankings, whips and stocks.

Or maybe I’ll be papa bear,

and she’ll be Goldielocks.

Each woman is a fantasy,

a figment of my mind.

A harmless little interlude,

in day dreams unconfined.

I think I’ll end this poem now,

kick up my feet and ponder.

Allow my thoughts to run amuck,

my naughty mind can wander.

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OH The Internet Mysteries

Within my heart i grew a wish

a simple wish, i thought

to never fall for the "web" bliss

where my love will be caught

i let out the wish in kisses and sips

and in cyber to surrender

i placed it upon your hungry lips

in a folder called 'remember'

i pressed it tight and held it in

so no tears will slip my eyes

then let this wish soak through my skin

knowing I will hear lies

No one climbs this wistfull shadow

no cyber kiss, no cyber hand, no trace

it is where rain begins the rainbow

of colorful tears upon one's face

So if you wish this dream with me

sing in whispers, drink me up

you're my cloud in trousers, a reverie

or leave your heart in a cup

I am your soft blanket for the night

snuggle in me from your nightmare

but dont think you'll take my heart

Its not here for surrender

I am your perfect trophy

the prey you hunt so well

And you will never get me

I'll leave before the rainfall

Whsprasigh: (shadowself) Maria Lia /99

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Breath of Fire Wings of Silk

Breath of fire wings of silk,

Captivated against my will.

A double purpose two in one,

Love me a lot, love me a little, love me none.

Eyes indescribable but for flames touch,

Golden skin many days in the sun.

Raven hair falling softly against my flesh,

The feel, the tingle, revived, refreshed.

Toughened hands but not this night,

So gentle; shadows against the firelight

Each touch, each caress, each feel,

But upon awakening you know it isn’t real.

View ladyreck's Full Portfolio