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Lifestyle Poetry

Lyrical, rhyming and passionate words are a beauty to this Lifestyle. Enter into the creative muse, the mind of submissives and Dominants alike. Find just the right words to express how you are feeling from someone who was able to use their inner voices.

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Dance of the Naked Slave

Author: luna

Filed in: music, erotic, desire, slave, dance, nude

The slave stands softly,
fingers gliding across the soft flesh of her thighs,
her short coral silk robe cinched at the waist,
full breasts peaking out from behind the fabric,
silver bangles jingling on her ankles and wrists,
a smile graces her ruby lips as blue eyes brighten,
chocolate tresses catching the light,
glimmering and shining as she steps out to the center of the room.

The dancer lifts long arms up in front of her,
delicate fingers pointed, wrists flexed,
places one foot in front of the other,
crossed lightly, her head turning to the left,
soft lashed eyes lowering to the floor,
heart looking within her,
to find the beauty that is a slave,
small steps, pointing and turning in a tiny circle,
her slender hands curl and twist in front of her,
slowly widening the bow of her arms till they reach extended from her sides.

The girl swings her hips in matching circles to her movements,
melodic ringing of her bangles the only music in the room besides the beating of a slave’s heart,
her arms dip and swirl gracefully,
she takes slow spins, lifting to her toes to swirl in her coral robe,
the soft fabric fluttering as she moves,
her luscious lips parting as her tongue snakes to lick them,
brown curls a curtain of shimmering color around her as she twirls and dips sweetly.

She pauses her swirls,
hips still swaying softly,
heels beating out her heart’s rhythm,
her hands falling to caress her sides,
fingering the soft fabric, up her fleshy curves,
the outline of her breasts,
a soft gasp as her nipples harden with her touch,
the silk heightening the sensations.

The slave ‘s soft hands sliding up her neck,
tangling in her mane of coffee-colored curls,
sapphire eyes twinkling in the light,
cheeks reddening in a blush as her body responds with heat and desire at her thoughts and touch.

The Dancer looks into His gaze,
passion swirling in her eyes as blue as the sky on a summer day,
a mischievous smile twists her full lips,
hands slipping from her silky hair to the silk hem of her rope,
tracing it down between the valley of her large breasts to the tie at her waist,
fingering it teasingly,
rolling her hips back and forth as she lifts her left foot to place it in front of her right,
and taps out a slow, steady beat of desire.

She fixes her eyes on His gaze,
her tongue slipping between parted lips across her teeth,
she flicks her right eyebrow up haughtily, smile widening,
her long fingers tease the robe’s knot loose and her hands gently pull the binding free,
her robe falling open slightly to bare creamy flesh of her belly,
the swell of her breasts and a peak at her desire,
her sex, already moistening with longing,
aching to be touched.

The girl lifts her hands to her robe,
her eyes stormy with desire, remaining on His gaze,
hoping she is found pleasing,
fingers teasing the fabric off ivory freckled shoulders as soft as the silk,
her breathing now a ragged pant,
breasts rising and falling softly,
the robe slides down her shoulders,
baring silky flesh of her back and arms,
catching the robe for but a moment in her hands before letting it pool on the floor at her feet as she moans.

The dancer stands naked before Him,
her body shining alabaster,
frozen in His gaze,
she feels heat radiate from her,
her need evident in her nipples hardened as stone,
her sex swollen and glistening with moisture,
her cheeks ruddy with desire,
her fingers rise to tickle her flesh across her belly,
cradling her breasts in offering,
teasing down her curves to her very core,
head falling back, silver collar flashing in the light,
a soft moan from her lips.

She lifts her head slowly,
eyes finding Him again,
thinking she is not pleasing enough,
as she sinks to her knees,
her legs spread painfully wide as her hands caress and tease the flesh of her inner thighs,
dance across her heat,
up her curves to her breasts,
capturing and teasing the nipples harder,
full lips pouting, begging to be kissed,
her body aching for His touch,
rocking on her knees, her body writhes and struggles for satisfaction.

The girl lowers herself to the floor,
arms stretched out above her brown tresses,
bangles ringing, reaching for Him,
glistening with sweat,
the swell of her behind moving with the movement of her hips,
she grinds against the floor shamelessly,
then rolls to her back, arching and flexing her back,
lifting full breasts, rocking her head back to look upon Him,
heels tapping a heated quickened rhythm on the floor,
her large hips rocking against the floor.

The slave rolls back to her stomach,
lying prone on the floor then sliding her knees under her,
she rises like a panther,
her body quivering with ache,
flame of desire in her eyes,
as she stretches out her arms,
crossing them at the wrist,
pleading to be touched,
hoping she has been pleasing to Him,
whispering, 'Touch me Master, please...'

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