Tuesday is slowly coming to its end and it’s time to introduce you to my evening guest, the first poet I’ve ever showcased on my website.
Before you meet R.A. Smith, known also as HL37, you can check out my other Tuesday guests, if you missed their appearance. L.M.Mountford shared his shameless erotica with us in here. Lorraine Carey and Becky Robbins extended their invitations to Camp Cougar in here.
HL37’s words affect the mind like the most tender caress of a feather and the cruelest lash of a well-crafted whip. Let him take you away in a world where the delicate and sweet emotion is blurred with the violence and intensity. His work speaks enough for itself so live it.
Make Me Take It from You: erotic poetry and short stories
“Make Me Take It from You” is a collection of poetry and short stories that delve into to the physical and mental reality of the BDSM lifestyle .
Ranging from tender expressions of an emotional connection between two minds to sometimes seemingly brutal physical exchanges, these writings provide a vehicle to engage the reader and draw them into a world of complexities that they may have a longing to experience.
“poetry and prose” is a collection of stand alone pieces that will often leave the reader breathless and pondering. Included here is the title piece, “Make Me Take It from You.”
“themed writing” are just that. “twenty days of pillow notes” depict a darker side as love letters left each day for twenty consecutive days. The “tandem series” is the product of two minds exchanging lines and then responding with the next creating a unique flow of thought.
“short stories” take the reader on slightly longer trips into erotic and dark places that some can only imagine. And others will want to experience…
I need you to beat me
a simple message that required no further explanation
reached without ever negotiating
words or conditions
like a child laying a strap in the hands of the headmaster
implied admission of transgressions
not a pardoning
more a stay of execution
his loving brutality
act as witness
from her burdens
stand there in that cute little party dress
fidgeting and staring at your Mary Jane’s
hands clasped behind your back
that crooked grin almost protection
your lips will be a bright red smudge across your mouth and cheeks
your mascara will run down your face like tiny black lightning bolts
your hair will be knotted and ruffled
your pretty dress will be torn and tossed on the floor
you will look up at me with those tear filled eyes
and wordlessly scream…
take me, break me.
when she ran her tongue across his lips
his mustache tasted of coffee and smoke
and the honey freshly harvested from between her thighs
over her pounding heart
unlike the fire that they burned with before
so she mused
on how this began
how he had called her by her secret name
a name that made her feel both vulnerable and understood
she traced that name
into the sweat on his ink stained shoulder
newly broken nail dragging on his skin
the drying blood on his back creaking
as he drew her close
moving her to let loose a happy sigh
morning was long from over
Your mouth holds many wonders, spilling forth to please and provoke me, greedy girl who gets her way when I get mine.
And oh, such delicious aural enticement, you willingly offer to me, knowing that my cock gets a very special kind of hard, when you look over your shoulder and whisper the words,
“Please, fuck my ass”…
Somewhere on your skin, there will always be a skillfully placed note, from me to you, almost undetectable to anyone else. A fingerprint, my signature on our contract, and you will smile softly, when you see the mark,
the reminder that you belong with me, and to me.
Pinned against the wall, by the hair I hold in one hand, and the wrist I hold in the other, you punch and slap, as if a black eye, or a sting on my cheek, will in any way, change the outcome, of what I have planned. You will always, lose the struggle, that you invited, with your need,
yet you always win.
He looked at her,
not thru her like everyone else in her life did.
He looked at her and saw who she truly was.
Her vulnerability falling away,
like a veil of invisibility she had worn through eternity.
Safe for the first time in a very long time.
She could, at last, breathe.
Inhale his scent, his touch, his words, his truth.
He also needed these,
things that he had never known or had forgotten.
She looked at him and saw who he truly was.
And she, His.
She came through the door like a blonde tornado…
Some days it was all she could do to hold herself together past the threshold, and she already had one pump in her hand when she looked up and saw him there. He had that serene look, the one that just said let me take away the troubles of your day.
It made her melt…
He could be so gentle,
it was his way most of the time,
until he wasn’t,
and she needed that too.
He knelt down with one hand on her hip to steady her and removed the other pump. Shoes dangling from his fingers he took her by the hand and led her into the bedroom. He motioned her to sit on the end of the bed while he went and started a bath.
She was reaching up to pull the pins from her hair when his hand stopped her with a grip of her wrist. He placed his hands on her shoulders pulling her up against him. He smelled so sweet, sweat and cologne, her face nuzzling deep into his shoulder. He reached around and unzipped her tight black skirt, letting it drop to the floor with no ceremony. Then nimble fingers worked loose every one of the tiny buttons on her blouse. Another unceremonious plop on the floor.
Sliding the tips of his fingers under the straps of her bra, oh she let out a sigh now. Hands one at a time caressing her shoulders as he worked the lace off her ample breasts. God how she loved when he did that, made her feel dirty and adored at the same time. Cupping her breasts in his hands like he was testing them for balance and road wear. Thumbs pushing her nipples to the side with a firm yet tender stroke. She sighed and trembled, butter in his hands.
When his hands finally slid down her hips to catch on the edges of her panties, he looked up and held her dark eyes for the longest time in his gaze. Her day did slip away in the blue ocean that reflected back at her.
And then she was naked.
Standing before him with nothing left but her dark rimmed glasses.
She moved to take them off, and he took hold of her wrist before she could complete the thought.
”No kitten, leave them on”…
He moved to the bathroom to shut off the hot bubbly water that had now filled the tub. Returning she found him also naked.
Yet he was never exposed.
Placing his hands on her shoulders, a signal to lower herself to her knees. She complied and took his hard cock into her hands ready to swallow it as if it would give her the air she needed to breathe easy. This is how she let the cares of the day go.
One of her ways…
Being his cock whore.
Took away her grace.
And gave it back.
HL37 writes erotic poetry and short stories that capture the BDSM lifestyle as seen through his eyes. When he is not pushing words around with a pen, he can be found making whips, riding his motorcycle affectionately known as “the big red bitch” and planning his next tattoo.
I have been writing erotic poetry and short stories for over 10 years and recently published the first of several collections of my work thus far.
I am active in the BDSM lifestyle and much of what I write is from my own experiences.
“Make Me Take It from You” covers a large time frame of my writing about what I find appealing, which is the balance of mental and physical play. BDSM is more than just hitting or punishment for me, it is about communication of needs, listening to the person I am with in that moment, and pushing them to grow and experience things they never imagined they were capable of.
I recently started making nylon whips and am launching my website soon. I have always been good with my hands and passionate about my endeavors so this has become quite a rewarding career addition.
Make Me Take It From You: https://www.amazon.com/Make-Me-Take-You-stories-ebook/dp/B01KWAJM7E/
Facebook HL37: https://www.facebook.com/HL37writes/