- Erotic Poetry
- Stormy Sea
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He has come to me in the darkness of night in a stormy sea,
riding me on the crest of the waves.
I have had to raise the side rails to stay in the berth
as the ship struggles through the squall,
rolling and churning through the stormy sea.
He comes down heavily on my back
as I’m stretched out in the berth on my belly.
He is heavy with undulating,
insistent muscle, invading, consuming.
* * *
Unable to sleep in the tossing sea,
I had come to the rail and watched the deckhands
moving like dancers, tightening the ropes, securing the cargo.
I watched him, the burly White Russian, for hours
as the ship raced toward the twilight horizon,
just ahead of the storm,
losing the race by the minute,
inevitably being enfolded from behind in consuming embrace.
Stripped to the waist,
he worked hard with ropes at the bow of the ship,
letting his muscles and hands work
as they knew so masterfully to do.
Beauty in motion.
Sensual. Arousing.
No longer watching what he was doing,
because he was watching me.
“What was that you said?”
I called out over tumult.
“Your cabin number?” he called back.
“I can come soon. I want to fuck you.”
“Fuck me?” I cried out in shock.
“Your cabin number,” He called back.
No longer a question.
I wonder if he would have come anyway
even if I had not told him the number.
* * *
Heavy, stretched out, covering me.
Wet and salty, just come from the sea.
Too strong for me,
even if I had wanted to struggle.
He gives me no choice, however.
His strong arms lace under my armpits
and back over my shoulders
and make a fist with his hands at the nape of my neck.
His knees are forcing my thighs apart.
His club of a dick is at my channel,
pushing, pushing, pushing.
Entering and rising up inside me.
And he just holds me there,
letting the rolling and lurching
of the tossing, storm-cast sea
move him deeper, deeper inside me.
Rolling this way and that,
the hot bulb of his cock
kissing and assaulting my sensitive inner walls
at all angles in the rhythm of the tossing sea.
Ahhhhhhh.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 15 years agoThere is nothing wrong with the way this poem is written other then some tired phrasing and superfluousness that a bit of editing could fix. I think this poem is imaginative and "hot" or the metaphors make me hot. Enjoyed, thanks!
sr71pltover 15 years agoAuthorThe comment on being close to prose is fair enough. It actually was a passage of prose in a story that will post here soon, "At Sea with Maurice." My editor reset that passage to poetry, saying he read it as poetry. So, for a lark, I posted it to Lit. as poetry. There's a sentence more in the prose version, but that related to the larger story and isn't understandable standing alone, so I excised it. Other than that, this started life directly as a prose passage in a story.
BOSTONFICTIONWRITERover 15 years agoI like the description, but do agree with the last comment.
What we storytellers do with a paragraph a poet does in with a word.
Nonetheless, I found the poem most enjoyable making the analogy from the see to the man.
Good job.
Safe_Betover 15 years agoVery good for your first poetry posting! I like the piece a lot. Only critique is that you are too descriptive. You write poetry like most story writers do and end up with a piece that is too wordy. Try removing as many unnecessary words as possible, while still retaining the meaning. I look forward to your next piece. Thanks.
