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Whore For Your Touch (Erotic Poem)

Whore For Your Touch, an erotic poem

Whore For Your Touch, an erotic poem

Whore For Your Touch

I want to touch my nipples…
I’m thinking about you sucking
my clit like a little hard cock,
your mouth making love to my juicy peach
as your fingers play with my melons.
Sometimes I’m resentful of your writing,
always have been jealous of the attention you give it.
It’s the other woman in your life,
the one you pursue with mad passion,
my main competition,
while inside I burn for you.
Even in the beginning,
I could never get enough
of your wanting for me,
always desiring more
but receiving less over time,
until I finally quit caring.
I turned on you by closing myself off from you
to protect my soul from what it missed.
I know you remember what I said
that scarred your heart and made you remove
anything you had left for me.
But I was angry and wanted to hurt you,
because I was feeling rejected, abandoned,
like I had given and given everything I had
all to you… to giving you a child… a castle with a mote…
protection…. security… a means to do as you pleased with your life…
to trying to ensure your happiness and contentment…
to making your dreams come true…
to supporting everything and everyone except myself,
which left me feeling used up with nothing left to give,
with nothing left to renew my spirit and sense of self.
And you were telling me how I was letting you down
by not giving you more of my time,
the way you wanted it and when you needed it,
which still felt like it was all about you.
Not you needing or wanting me.
No more sweet words, flattery, play, chase…
No more feeling like a woman.
All the heat from your sun had been withdrawn.
No more adoration,
like a flower in winter I gave up hope,
of feeling any more warmth,
and withdrew inside myself,
threw myself into work even more,
or into games, food, whatever,
to forget the us that was,
the us that had been lost.
But now it’s like Spring has come,
our love blooms anew with promise.
Please don’t stop shining on me again.
Not now when we are finally finding
our way back to each other.
It frightens me to see you
writing another book,
not really taking a break,
but throwing yourself into
it whole-heartedly with your friend.
I feel the withdrawal already
of your radiant energy,
now that you’ve found a focus.
I need it, your love, to feed my soul,
it’s my reason for staying here.
It’s a deep hole only you can fill.
I know you need an audience
to feel good about yourself,
to feel like you are accomplishing something,
that you have long desired creative collaboration
and need it to fill a void in you, one that I can’t…
And I am happy for you and want you to be filled
in every way…
I do not begrudge your stories,
but I do eny them,
what they get from you…
what they steal from me…
all your thought for me,
leaving my passion burning unattended.
Sometimes I feel like I am not on your list
of what you need to feel balanced,
that if I’m not chasing you
it will all go away again.
What about my needs as a woman?
I need you to let me know
that you think I’m beautiful,
sexy, erotic, naughty,
that you are hot for
and completely seduced by me.
I need to know that you think about me
and touch yourself too.
That you crave my heat,
that you need it, me,
to be complete, to live,
like you need air and water.
So yes, like you said
I’m a whore for your touch.
I’ll do anything for it.
I need you so much.