• hopilavayi: an erotic dictionary

memories of my ghost sista

~ the dead are never satisfied

memories of my ghost sista

Tag Archives: oral sex

sannine

07 Wednesday Oct 2020

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Tags

cunnilingus, erotic poetry, glut of smut, lebanon, misfit clit, oral sex, poem, sannine, sonnet

“Damn. Lost in a forest with Pan.” That’s what

my big splashy mouth on your misfit clit,

 

nihilist cunt, felt like, you grunt: “Glut of smut.”

For hours I devoured; leaving you unfit

 

to drive. Your car slowed on the mountain road

while your son slept in the backseat. “Pregnant

 

and in middle school?” Even your scowl glowed.

“Homeless a month later.” With your silent

 

O and shayla undone you act as if

no one in Lebanon had ever been

 

finger fuck’d before. The divine appear

at odd times; parked on the side of a cliff

 

near Mount Sannine it spoke through you. No sin

or remorse; just faith found in your cum smear.

][][

Notes:

Shayla is a long, rectangular scarf popular with women in the Gulf region. It’s wrapped around the head and pinned in place at the shoulders. Mount Sannine is the highest peak in Lebanon.

6-2-9

09 Thursday Jul 2020

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Tags

cunnilingus, damn good, erotic poetry, fellatio, flip flop fly, healing, oral sex, playing hoopsnake, poem, sonnet

The night is round and black, like your throat just
as you gag me down whole. You squirm, settle

your rump on my face. Slow grind as I thrust
my tongue deeper. Hell is straight boy coital,

but as I pull out concerned you gasp: “More!”
For years we put the one in lonely; now,

somehow, we’re two … even if you once swore
how all my kind made you spew. Cum is how

we cure hate. 6-2-9. We’ve got this licked
while I suck the good parts of your soul out.

I prayed for a lover and then you came.
Now we cum. They say that nothing’s perfect,

but this? So damn good. That’s what I’m about
with you: to heal from lives of scorn and shame.

munchies

29 Monday Jun 2020

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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chronic, endless fellatio, erotic poetry, munchies, new smuttiness, oral sex, poem, sonnet

Your dad finds you in the bathroom, scrubbing
make-up from your cheeks. He doesn’t approve

of, “loose morals,” he says, “and women looking
cheap, like strumpets.”
Each day you remove

all signs of what we’ve done while he’s at work.
“Pull out then ram deep,” you cried two hours

ago. He talks virtue. We go berserk,
fueled by chronic and munchies. He blathers

about sin. We invent new smuttiness
each time our tongues touch. He scowls. We giggle

on the phone. “Miss you!” “Miss you more!” He’ll glare.
We’ll meet after school; all wild and reckless

with our joy. “On my face, leave your puddle
there.”
It’s still the only make-up you’ll wear.

subversion

18 Thursday Jun 2020

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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blow job, chaos and pleasure, erotic poetry, fellatio, oral sex, poem, sonnet, spunk drunk, subversion

Hardcore and sublime. We found your limits.
Now comes the pushing over. As you stretched

your jaws wide, cried, “I must be fucking nuts
to let you do this.”
As you gagged and retched.

As I pulled my cock from your throat. Others
have asked me if everything that you claim

is true. Who? That hurts. I’m a bad older
brother or uncle or whatever game

we play today. There’s bliss in subversion,
pleasure in chaos. What is true? You cry

only because you want to cry. “Want more?”
Pounding, filling your throat. Drunk on passion

and pain. Spunk drunk with bruises in your thigh.
We’re both sick and fucking like it’s our cure.

twice

05 Friday Jun 2020

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Tags

cunnilingus, eager to save, erotic poetry, fellatio, oral sex, poem, sonnet, twice

In some films, when someone cries out, “I’ll suck
out the poison!”
the wound is always here ––

on the ankle. They make their, “cooties! yuck!”
face, so it’s sincere. Snakes never bite near

cocks, ass, underboob. Just the chaste ankle.
I like yelling, “I’ll suck out the poison!”

too –– when we’re out in public. These nipple
biting snakes are bad news when they fasten

their fangs on your inner thigh, neck, G-spot.
Since I’m eager to save you I’ll suck twice

as hard, twice as long. Odd you keep getting
bit when we go out. Does poison run hot

in you now? Others call this sin and vice.
Let them. We both know this is life saving.

murk

08 Saturday Sep 2018

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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Tags

crotch rope, cunnilingus, erotic poetry, fruitcake metaphor, murk, oral sex, poem, pudendal cleft, rope play, sonnet

Fruitcake and sludge love, a love-smudge, dried crust
crusting my nails. Few ghosts come back with pride,

with tales. On our last shift you were tied, trussed,
crotch-rope spreading your pudendal cleft wide

under your scrubs. Release, in all its forms:
from me, from work, that cum-sticky murk smell,

cirque-slush fog. I know how a nurse transforms
with bliss of rope kissing her, “pumpkin shell.”

Bad joke. “Peter, eat her.” Very well: last
kiss, last shift through your cottons. Moist as cake,

as fruit — as the mistake we want and yearn
for, crusts our nails. In the future our past

falls from us — Call this the sort of mistake
that leaves behind only ghost-tales, rope-burn.

suffused

20 Friday Jul 2018

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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blow job, erotic poetry, fellatio, oral sex, sonnet, suffuse

Dark love: filling your throat up to the balls.

This, too, is romance. Hands pulling, clenched in

 

your hair. Call it rough. Call it crude. Fuck-dolls

and archangels whimper at our work. Sin,

 

good and proper, they’d call this. Cum and drool

cascade down your chin. You grin. I trust you.

 

You trust me. Other love lives are cesspools

of hurt. To spread your ass wide. To corkscrew

 

into you with head thrown back, with throat bared.

Others moan of lives lived without passion

 

but you quiver when that word is uttered.

You’ve taken what nirvana offered.

 

Suffused with such dark love our souls open,

reverberate with wonder — we’re well paired.

talented cocksuckers

22 Wednesday Jan 2014

Posted by babylon crashing in Poetry, sonnet

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Tags

bite hard, come and get it boo, oral sex, poem, Poetry, sinner man, sonnet, talented cocksuckers

Tasting my sex. I want sweat to drip. Eyes
rolled back in your skull. Come large. Come erect.

Come rub it. Come touch it. Come eat it. Sighs
and drawls speak in crazy tongues. You have wrecked

me for anyone else. When I say, “don’t
bite me,”
I know that you will. When I say,

“don’t waste even a drop,” I know you won’t.
Impaled mouth. Hollow cheeks. Until I spray

blessings down your throat, you keep your eyes shut.
There are many talented cocksuckers

in this world, but out of all I chose you
because you’re mad and bad and you don’t slut

shame. I come each time I hear that sinner’s
voice on the phone say, “Come and get it, boo.”

minete and a room full of holes

05 Friday Jul 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Portuguese, Translation

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Tags

cunnilingus, minete, oral sex, poem, Poetry, Portuguese translation

 

Doce a palavra. Minete.
Doce o sal na minha língua.
Desperta, meu sangue.
Negue que me amas três vezes antes do amanhecer.
Perdoai-me porque te desejo tanto.
Doce teu mágica.
Transforme teu esporra em vinho.
Como beato, ajoelho-me entre tuas coxas, irmã.
Minete. Desejo ser bebido.

.
Sweet word. Minete.
Sweet salt on my tongue.
Awake, my blood.
Deny that you love me three times before dawn.
Forgive me because I desire so much.
Your sweet magic.
Turn your cum into wine.
How blessed I kneel between your thighs, sister.
Minete. I wish to be drunk.

X3

X1

Note from author:

There aren’t a whole lot of foreign words in the world for cunnilingus (the English didn’t have one for so long that they had to steal the idea from the French). Minete is one of those words. It’s Portuguese and my dictionary defines it thus:

S.f. (calão) Prática de sexo oral que consiste na estimulação do órgão genital feminino, em especial o clitoris, com a língua ou os lábios. O mesmo que cunnilingus. (Do francês «minet») exemplo de: Afastou-lhe as coxas e começou a fazer-lhe lentamente um minete.

indo para baixo

20 Friday May 2011

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

going down, indo para baixo, oral sex, Portuguese, translation

Sentamos pra ver o sol

indo para baixo.

Na pele que senti o calor.

Aquele gosto quente minha lingua.

Um beijo, um toque,

uma mão entre tuas joelhos.

Tuas calças para baixo

em torno de tuas tornozelos.

Olha, meus beijos

causou a tua azul lua a avermelhar.

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