Hot steamy poetry – the kind that make me to want to take a shower and feel water droplets drip down the arousal points of my skin. During a long-distance relationship (when I was unable to perform sex), I sent my boyfriend sensual poems. I didn’t want to sound too romantic and perhaps cheesy in modern times – we barely write letters, never mind poetry. That’s why I chose to eloquently write my sexual fantasies into art.
As my post on erotic literature explains, men and women can both get turned on by erotica. While porn might have you fantasising about a star carrying out a lewd act, research suggests reading sexual content can encourage women to feel more desire for their partners.
If you’re stuck in lockdown without a loved one (or a great hookup), UK GQ note that erotica helps our escapism. And since we can’t physically escape Covid-19, we can at least daydream somewhere else emotionally. The steamy poetry below is all written by me.
Steamy Poetry: Rain Drop
One more drink of you and I’ll stop being sober,
Another sip of you and I’ll increase my liquid,
Drizzle your taste and swallow your atmospheric pleasure,
You look at me, like a single rain drop seeping on dry desert,
Each time I reflect back on your vision,
I soak myself in the shower, imagining your drop as rain.
It’s very cliche, but I love the obvious imagery of rain and water when writing about sex. It reminds me of one of my first sexual encounters which happened in a shower.
My concealed side
Come and put your lips against mine,
Tonight, there’s no more of me timid and shy,
Only the concealed part of me, begging.
Put down your things and let me plead you to the acts in my mind,
No more will I be kind; you won’t be friendly,
I don’t want to own a new friend.
From here I smell your sex and picture your sweat from a night of intimate dance,
Let me lead you to the steps, make me cum by the end of the song.
I wrote this as an empowerment piece. A woman feeling confident enough to finally admit what she wants in bed, and to expect it to happen.
Bodies in Paint
You came back into my mind on a trip to my office,
As I sat on the train, I couldn’t help but picture you naked,
Pounding for breath. Paint on my canvas as you awake from bland sex,
With me, we erase your kama sutra books and empty your toys,
No more imagination and role-play needed.
We wake back your hunger and my starving appetite.
Orgasms with coffee, tongues with dessert; carousel rides through dinner.
We become frozen paint, once the brush has stroked, two bodies in sync,
As I sat on the train, I imagined sex with you every day,
You in my office, you inside, me arising satisfied.
A poem to describe a wandering imagination. Bored with mundane routine; imagining a more fun and exciting lover.
I want to embrace your body and hear your breath,
See your face and have you touch my waist,
Kiss your lips and kiss them twice more,
Tease my body with your lingering pause,
Have your way with me, put me on all fours,
And tell me to moan as though you’ve not had me before,
We’re still a bed-stricken couple, on a honeymoon explore.
A long-term couple eager to continue their initial attraction and chemistry.
Before it’s morning
Shivers smoothly stiffen across my arms as your dampening lips pause and press against my neck,
Without care or grace, your muscular hands grip and release my lace dress,
Leaving me naked with shivers and edible sweat,
Your tongue extends beyond your lips and tastes my breasts, followed by swirls just above my legs,
And then your lips come together, to purse and suck up and down every curve of my silhouette,
Focus persists on me, as your eyes stare and memorise my angles, drawing me in as our eyes meet,
Turning your head to fully hear the moans, taking turns to grunt beside the springs of the bed,
On a final scream and finger grip against your sides, we passionately intertwine our mouths,
Holding each other, breathing heavily and stroking each other’s bodies as they remain shaking,
Whispering good night, preparing for the first light of morning sun.
I wrote this poem last year, not quite sure what to do with it. I like that it’s more explicit and to the point in describing passion.
If you like these poems, you’ll love my poetry book: Not in a Fairy Tale by Laura Jane Bradbury. Available worldwide on Amazon Kindle and print. Click here to shop US & click here for UK. Check your country’s Amazon storefront for the book to avoid overseas shipping costs.