I recently came across a post on XConfessions which inspired me to immediately start production on a new erotic film! The post was that of someone who had felt a sexual awakening through reading poetry and it got me thinking about how poetry, much like erotic film, can be a sensory experience that can take you somewhere else, outside of your body and the normal confines of pleasure! So, I decided to compile some of my favourite poetry from XConfessions over the years! After all, what’s sexier than a great mind?
The post was about a poem called Some Never Awaken by Anaïs Nin. You can watch Some Never Awaken now on XConfessions!
Some Never Awaken
This is a poem that awoke something in me. Maybe it was sexual, maybe it was something deeper. I thought I would share. It is called “Some Never Awaken” by Anaïs Nin.
“You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken.”
Another poem which filled me with lust was I Put a Pagan Spell on You! by spell_on_fire. It inspired me with a sense of the outdoors, the unknown and something wild and untamed. I had to turn it into a short erotic film! Which you can watch already on XConfessions, starring two of my favourite and most famous performers Owen Gray and the ever spellbinding Vex Ashley 🌿
I Put a Pagan Spell on You!
Gates of the Woods,
Powers of my mind,
let the sexual visions come forth,
happiness and bliss to find!
Goddess of The Forest, grant my request;
Goddess of the Forest, hear my plea.
Open the floodgates of desire in the man for whom my heart conspires;
let him feel the heat, oh Goddess, of my body warm and sweet.
I want you to want me, I want you too need me,
I want you too desire me, I want you too lust after me,
I want you too see that we were meant to be,
I want our desires meet,
I want lust to over flow in the body of yours,
In this night of passion only you can lust and desire me,
this is my will so let it be.
The next is short, but super sexy! Sometimes it’s true that less is more. And this poem by Mijikai Ero Kakikomi is no exception. I love it because it’s so simple but says so much. It describes one of the most exciting parts of a new relationship and the erotic heat of the Spring 🔥
Sleight of Hand
by Mijikai Ero Kakikomi
The First time,
He squeezes her butt cheek in public,
(and she likes it),
the relationship has achieved a new level.
Spring is in the air.
Sex is everywhere.
This confession by fd59 was one of the most spectacular I had ever seen!! Not only are my fans incredibly passionate and sexually inventive, imaginative and open, they are also, more often that not, fantastic writers! This poem really spoke to me about sexual exploration , but also a kind of restraint of pleasure common in BDSM. The idea of fighting and magnifying the pleasure for the ultimate, explosive orgasm sounded like music to my ears! This poem is absolutely gorgeous 😍
I was a college student… She was the mother superior and the Latin teacher. She taught me to lick a clit.
She said me: “Close gently in the incisors meat button and then repeat: “Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus / rumoresque senum severiorum / omnes unius aestimemus assis. / Soles occidere et redire possunt: /nobis, cum semel occidit brevis lux, / nox est perpetua una dormienda. / Da mi basia mille, deinde centum, / dein mille altera, dein secunda centum, / deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum. / Dein, cum milia multa fecerimus, / conturbabimus illa ne sciamus, / aut nequis malus invidere possit, / cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.”
The imperceptible and tapping movement of the tip of the tongue, that over the years I felt, on the clitoris, became a torture when pleasure began to grow. I wanted the light touch to become strong and domineering opening the road to orgasm just about to explode. But when the first contraction seemed ready to unleash the others, the tongue, spiteful, was away and it seemed that everything had to start again. The pleasure was so restrained that grew slow but inexorable as the cream of the milk on the fire. It salts on; if you lower the flame it comes back down; however, its temperature continues to rise; you have a lot to do in holding the boiling, but sooner or later the foam goes up up up and pours from the pot in a boiling river. These were my orgasms with the verses of Catullus.
I emptied completely, too; it took me a sense of abandonment that in those moments did not seem so bitter as I would have thought with the progress of time. The walls of the vagina, in the contract, would have liked to shake a dick; but whose? That fluid embrace would be wasted with an absent-minded man, not attentive to my needs; I was not interested in love, but in the attention and care yes. And so I continued and continue, in the quiet of my room, to live with my uneasy peace.
The last one I’ll share with you again today is an older post from an anonymous confessor. I love the mystery of this. The romanticism. It captures the imagination so well, which is, of course, what we love so much about our fantasies. Sometimes they can seem almost real and suddenly the next day they’re gone…
Under the Influence
Once I took so many drugs I almost died.
did I say once?
maybe there where many more,
Under the influence,
mad frogs yelling at the department blocks
maybe there were many more blocks
Inside the room
didn’t notice when I was kissing him
big room lights like lens flares.
He was male as I,
he was 5 years older
but didn’t notice when I was kissing him.
I was loving it,
our kiss was something
Under the influence,
we land in the kiss that last forever.
The lights were turned off.
everyone left the room
maybe there where many more rooms
The zipper got down.
I loved the taste of it.
I loved having it
waves of an ocean,
under the influence,
he was like going to church,
a wise man so beautiful,
I could barely see the sky on him.
so we stay in the room,
under the influence.
I touched him
and he touched me.
I sucked his penis, so tasty
he sucked mine,
we loved each other.
like a mount of clay.
like a hundred miles of clay.
was now only a word
I could barely see it.
In those days.
I’m so inspired by the poetic and literary prowess of my lusties! And I want you to keep going! Come to XConfessions to share your words with me. I’m so excited that I’m also thinking about sharing with you my favourite erotic and feminist poetry from over the years. Do you have any recommendations for me?