Of course I fucking want to fuck you. I want to push you down onto the carpet and squat over you with my feet planted firmly on the hard floor, easing myself down onto your dick while you try desperately to hold back from thrusting upwards. I want to put both my hands on your chest to steady myself, and look into your eyes as they widen when you feel your cock sliding in. I want all of this and more, just give me five minutes.
I love poetry, and especially sexy poetry, so I was over the moon when Lexy – who runs the Lexy Experiment Tumblr (NSFW) – got in touch with me to offer this fantastic piece. It’s sexy and wistful and gorgeous, and I hope you love it as much as I do. If you’re a poet too, please do feel free to pitch me a guest poem!
This year, for the first time in a long time, I am not going to visit family. I’ll miss them, because my family are amazing. But there are up-sides: I won’t spend hundreds of pounds on train fares lugging a backpack full of presents all around the country. I won’t have to have the super-quiet sex on put-up beds in people’s lounges. I won’t have to smile politely at racist elderly aunts, and I can say ‘fuck’ if I want without scaring the children.
So here’s a Christmas poem for grown-ups.
As ever when I roll out some dirty poetry, I’m going to ask you to be gentle because I don’t really know what the fuck I’m doing. But I wrote a sexy poem, about sex and aging. Two things that are not incompatible. I suck at poetry titles, so feel free to suggest one in the comments. And I suck at poetry too, it’s just that sometimes I like the rhythm of it to make a point or turn a dirty phrase.