It looked liked a cheap dirty hotel room in a place like Bangkok, Thailand.
There was a pale fat man with a British sounding accent with a small skinny Thai girl. He slammed the woman onto the bed having intense sexual intercourse with her, but for some reason with her naked body face down on the bed with her face also pushed down in the pillow she was hysterically laughing. Perhaps it was the opium pipe on the bedroom table that ignited this hysterical laughter with the fat man sexually penetrating her or maybe it was the absurdity of the man himself she was selling herself for pleasure to that particular evening.
There was a twenty five year old prostitute in her studio apartment where she would provide services to all the local Johns sone of them who were frequent repeat visitors. She gave them every part of her lips, breasts, bosom, and female area for them to enjoy so long as the price was right. While unhappy she tried to put on a good show with each man that came by to visit making it seem like every man was special or unique. She would charge them four hundred dollars per visit. She was hoping to one day put herself through college in becoming a doctor. All she knew was that her body was the only gift given to her and what she did, she was very good at where she lived her life vicariously.
He approached her in a Moscow park soliciting her for sex and she responded with money in hand in giving him oral sex. The gentleman was a Arab foreigner visitor and business man enjoying the sites of Russia, but more importantly its women. The prostitute was a black hair woman of silk white skin with very large breasts that she could beat a man with wearing red lip stick and dressed in black leather from head to feet.
Picking up Johns in the park was her thing and everybody knows in Moscow that is the place to go when you were looking for a good time.
Unfortunately the Moscow police knew that also and as she was openly giving the Arab oral sex the police spotted them from a long distance in the bushes where they started running towards them.
The prostitute then asked him, “Do you have a car nearby?”
He responded, “Yes, I do, it is just down the courtyard where we can out run them”
She responded, “I’ll expect double in payment once we get to the hotel for risk exposure”
After exchanging that they ran towards the Arab’s car before the Moscow police could catch up with them.
I heard them speaking, her white dress was see-through!
Ah but I am wearing white panties now so it wont be too bad, she exclaimed.
Later, after the concert, she walked out of the building like an angel.
I caught a glimpse of her in my rear-view mirror,
I could barely think, my mind overcome.
She gracefully walked past as I watched from the corner of my eye,
trying not to seem obvious to the others.
As she moved into my vision with some other girls,
I was aghast as the sun shone through her dress.
I could see the outlines of her shape,
they seemed to hint at her majesty through the transparency of that dress.
She turned and looked at me with those eyes!
Her long red hair glistened as I was put into her trance.
Never had I felt such a thing,
I couldn’t move, transfixed by the events unfolding,
all of which combined in that moment when our eyes met.
Ah the magic of my rose Medusa!
When she got to the hotel, she said "before I can take you on, I have to go to the bathroom"
"What for?" He asked?
"To wash out the red dye from my hair" she said emphatically. I always carry a disguise kit in my purse in avoidance of situations like this"
"That was a close one to be sure". But now that you are done with me, my prior appearance doesn't register, anyway. I had jet black hair at the time we met in the park. I really had red hair before, which I dyed for you because you mentioned on craiglist that's your preference. But to avoid detection after running away from the park I changed it to red. Now I have two layers of red and two layers of black."
"Yeah, that was a close one." He wearily muttered.
"No one told me Moscow was so dangerous, Natasha.".
"My code name is rose medusa", remember the next time you ask for me from Madame Lubintskaya.
i like the overall idea. lots of subtle, neat images and a frank voice that reveals a kind of courage and bluntness that good art requires.
I think if you entitled this thread: Short Poems About Whores, it would sell to a larger audience.
This isn’t really erotica.
The stories are wise and ambiguous, sad and funny and tough, just like you. Keep it up man.
The execution is poor in places, but I’m not too concerned with grammar. The feeling is you don’t give a shit, you’re too cool to bother with details or impress anyone.
There are some things that people find erotic that don’t seem sexual at all. I know this girl who, if you send her some money will get on a webcam and cook food with her feet. Like making cakes and all kinds of shit. It’s alleged to be an erotic thing, but I don’t find anything sexual about it.
You could say that my poem was erotica, and the op’s was ‘sexual erotica’. I’d say there is a difference that requires two terms, and I also think baking cakes with your feet is sexual, and all erotica is sexual.
Perhaps we shouldn’t divide it all up all, shagging is just the end part of romance etc, even a kiss is sexual and romance also the intent to get sex. I would say that in all cases there is something of the same warmth inside, that we feel weather its foot-cake or butt-cake.
I know there is a sexual area of the brain and a love area, which would indicate that they are separate emotions. We could say they are separate flavours of the same thing, that feelings are more like one thing on a slider, the polarity being from say, depression to ecstasy.
I often wonder if they are cyclic, that if you go up to ecstasy you inevitably end up at sadness or depression. Relationships seem to go like that somewhat.
Also…ty, on a side note. You should go to ebanned . com and click on the “financial domination” tab on the left. Everything you think about women will be validated.
They were both young and full of vital life sneaking in the school after hours to have their self indulgence of that evening’s sex. She purred like a kitten orgasming upon sexual insertion and moaned like crazy when he sticked his finger up her ass. This was a much better activity than any other school program could offer.
There’s a whole other level of perverts out there in the world man. Cake farting is the tip of the iceberg. I saw a porn of a girl banging a guy dressed up as a teddy bear with his junk hanging out of the costume. Shit was bizarre.
