Archives for the month of: November, 2011

Central Heating
By Bethany Davis

Central heating
On a cold day
Such a pleasure
Such a joy
A chilly house
Bringing goose bumps
To my bare skin
And making my breasts hard
My nipples stand up
Cami and shorts
Not warm enough
For the chilly house
The water running
Warming for my shower
As I wait I get ready
My shorts fall
To the cold floor
My cami on top
My panties slide
Down my legs
To pile on the floor
I step to the corner
Legs spread over the vent
Closing my eyes to enjoy
I can’t help but wonder
Does the house’s central heating
Enjoy the view more
Or does my central heating
Enjoy its touch more?

Daily Grind
By Bethany Davis

Skin on skin,
Lips on lips,
Fluids are mixing and one.

Mound on mound,
Nether on Nether,
A joy no other has found.

Sweat and pulses,
Breathing and moving,
All raising and growing some more.

The joy and the pleasure,
Esctatic and true,
Bringing new meaning to the “daily grind”.

Sweet White Wine
By Bethany Davis

sweet white wine
spilled from
the bottle
containing it
sparkling
glistening
in the lamp light
where it sits pooled
around the opening
of that lovely bottle
i gaze upon
smiling
i lean down
open my lips
and lick away that wine
that natural wine
so sweet
so salty
from the flesh bottle
from which it came

In the Early Morning Light
By Bethany Davis

In the early morning light,
Drifting and lazing, half asleep,
So relaxed, so calm, so peaceful,
Aware of my body, the blankets, my skin,
My senses heightened, my brain still numb,
I smile in the early morning light.

In the early morning light,
My hands wander, feeling my skin,
Smooth and soft, nothing tight,
My sides, my tummy, my breasts, my legs,
Wandering, feeling, sensing, as I drift,
I smile in the early morning light.

In the early morning light,
My fingers move the soft lace aside,
They find the warm flesh beneath,
A gentle touch, a firm touch,
I slowly rub and touch and feel,
I smile in the early morning light.

In the early morning light,
The feelings are so strong,
The calm, the peace, the senses speak,
Strong yet gentle, firm yet soft,
I smile in the early morning light.

In the early morning light,
My senses heightened, they build and build,
Moving faster, finding grace,
Over the top I go, like a rushing storm,
I smile in the early morning light.

Peppermint Bark
By Bethany Davis

A square, molded piece,
Perfect in dimensions,
Perfect in form.

White perfect chocolate,
Red specks of candy,
Pretty contrast.

A taste of chocolate,
A nibble, a bite,
Joy realized.

Soft creamy chocolate,
Crunchy candy bits,
Perfect Contrast.

Nibble by Nibble,
Bit by bit,
So fine.

The flavour remaining,
White chocolate,
Laced with mint.

Eerie in the Half Light
By Bethany Davis

eerie in the half light
      light reflecting off snow
            bright shadow
         shadowy light
      the mist rolls
   settles
fills the streets
   making electic lights
       look like gas lights
          half glow
like a horror movie
   but peaceful
      calm
         quiet
   the sound deadened
by the snow below
   and the mist above
      absorbing
         swallowing
   taking in the sound
consuming it
   and leaving only the silence
      as i walk beneath
            that black sky
             crystal clear
          full of stars
   at contrast with the
      mist
         and the light
   and the silence
in this wonderland
   this place between
      this liminal place
   of mist and snow and silence
the eerie glow
   of shrouded
         hidden
         light
      below a canopy
   of clarity

This Fake Banana
By Bethany Davis

Banana taffy,
Hard and smooth,
Like a banana cream pie,
But not as rich.

Banana milk,
So playful smooth,
Like liquid laughter,
Like dancing mirth.

The fruit’s so different,
Not rich or smooth,
A different taste,
A different love.

This fake banana,
Makes me spin,
Dancing like a child,
So young, so free.

White Snow, and Red, Red Nails
By Bethany Davis

White snow, and red, red nails,
Long, pale fingers, in freezing cold.
Wet and painful, cold’s hard burn,
Summer’s breeze is winter’s storm.
What once cooled nicely, now is dread,
Cuts the bones and cools the blood.
Bow your head, before the cold,
Stinging needles, of ice and cold.
Quickly moving, against the cold,
Moving slowly for slick and snow.
Through an eternal, blinding walk,
At least the door, and then to warmth.

Imitation Strawberry
By Bethany Davis
there’s something
about the taste
the feel
the experience
of imitation strawberries
strawberry Laffy Taffy
strawberry milk
strawberry pokey
light pink
like the cream
left over
after eating fresh strawberries
drenched in cream
and covering with sugar
that off white
pink
colour
tasting slightly of strawberries
but not really
innocent yet naughty
like your first discovery
of your sexuality
alone in your room
on a lazy afternoon