THE ASTRONAUGHTY EXPOSED!

OK here it is as promised, another one of our poems sparked by the Burlesque show at Rhizome's.
See previous post. He she's and let me see's.

PAUL wrote...

A Different Planet Body.

A Parody to: The Astronaughtys.

The female astronaughty left her lover,
lounging in a warm bath on Mars to explore a different planet.
She had read reports of such a place when she was but a girl,
and yearned to give it a whirl around the sun.
She had seen pictures of its pink surface,
and was entranced by its beauty,
and wondered if she would be granted,
a panted, patented petted, vetted, sweated entrance,
into the ways of the Planet of the Burlesque is more.
Leaving Mars far behind the times,
she jumped into hyperspace like lightning from Zeus' eyes,
crackling with energy to spend it in all one day.
She popped out of hyperspace,
like a champagne cork in the hands of a courtesan,
hovering over the pink and mauve clouded planet.
She left the mother ship in her shuttle,
to seek out the scuttle butt,
the straight skinny-dipping the cat's meow and pajamas,
on what gives all the way,
under the diaphanous shroud of the planet.
The shuttle landed like a spread eagle, eager for beaver tail,
to flail within an nine inch nail.
The lady astronaughty stepped from the shuttle,
and took off her helmet,
since her sensors told her the air here was refreshing.
It was night on this surface of the planet,
and the natives were restless,
within spitting distance she espied with her brown eye,
a trio of the aliens, engaged in some fertility rites,
two beating a driving wild rhythm on drums between their knees,
looking only at the other as if the drum was the other.
Before within the landscape of throb created by the percussion,
gyrated-x a dancer prancing and swaying,
her hair tied up in pig-tails,
interweaved with multi-colored ribbons,
her body barely clad in a black material which shined,
the dancer's body heaved like clouds being born,
her eyes dark as obsidian, her smile bright as a diamond,
she said to the astronaughty, “hello sexy,”
and in her high heels did a somersault,
away from the astronaughty flashing her split sex,
like a bolt of lightning.
The female astronaughty licked her lips lusciously,
the drumming humming a dinger, the dancer,
who told the astronaughty,
her name translated into your tongue means April Showers,
took her by the hand and they swirled together like cotton candy,
like a flock of starlings,
like a warm breeze through palm trees, spinning like tops off.
“You are new here,
and our planet must know you mean no harm,”
whispered April, like a gentle shower,
into the Astronaughtys ears.
“How do I clear my name?” She asked,
chest heaving like a surf on an Africa shore,
“you must let the whole planet see you share our customs,”
replied the dancer shash-saying.
“How” she asked confused,
letting her lead, the proof of the pudding is in the eating,
and we have a video link to all our world's playstations,
sighed the smiling dancer.
Ally the astronaughty quivered,
as the dancers meaning dawned on her like the sun,
“I yearn to learn,”
her heart racing like a cheetah on the edge of a dark continent.
With a robot camera floating above their heads,
transmitting every close-up image,
to the four corners of the Planet of the Burlesque,
April strip searched the astronaughty,
she left no stone unturned,
she uncovered every hidden a-gender-a,
as the drummers continued the beat themselves up.
When she was naked as a jay bird is long,
the dancer placed Ally on a work-out bench of sorts,
padded comfortably Ally lay on its Y shape,
her legs spread open.
April peeled off her dress like an orange,
letting her globes bounce free and clear,
dear to behold and hold on tight.
Ally could see the scene,
on a user-friendly-giant screen tv in her line of sight.
She held on tight,
for a jump into hyper space of a different kind.
April kneeled before Ally's altar,
altered state the obvious,
and massaged her thighs to the rhythm of the drums.
Ally could see on the tv April's mischievous face,
with a pussy-eating grin to get in hit, get on with it.
On the monitor she saw a close up of her yearning bush,
with April poised to strike like a snake up Ally's ladder,
April's tongue licked out like a fish to water,
attacking the problem head with bell's on.
Ally's cry echoed through the planet's playstation,
this alien was going native.
Her pigtails bobbing like Christmas ornaments,
April licked Ally's pussy like it was a giant stamp,
Ally grabbing the dancer's hair for dear life the fullest,
watched a close up of the tongues path,
on the giant screen tv.
The drums filled her ears,
as April filled her quim with vim to the brim,
with her variable tongue, stage 1, twister, sister-blisters.
April unfolded Ally's pussy as if it were a map,
to better improve her excellent sense of direction,
tracing with her fingers the highways and bi-way to the major city,
pretty in tickle her fancy pink centres of the earth woman.
April homed in on Ally's clit, with a sally, of precision,
guiding sweet-meat-heat-seeking-out-new-worlds missile,
to pucker up its fissile material to split,
don't know her from Adam's apple,
to set off a unchained reaction,
Ally squealing like a NASCAR peeling rubber,
screaming like a dentist's drill.
Ally see-sawed the picture on the tv,
of April kneeling between her naked thighs,
April's ass showing off,
her head pressed into Ally's snatch,
worshiping her like a ship about to sink,
in a monsoon of loony tune poon pooning, out go the lights.
Writhing like going down electric cables,
sweet April's tongue spun a tale of derriere-do-me
on in through, with within, without a doubt about it,
her satin soft face giving face, saving face,
showing Ally's best face foaming at the second mouth,
balling her tiger eyes put eat out.
The waves of pleasure radiating out of her,
like sunbeams on high,
April's tongue,
did a striped down to basics, clit tease out all the threads,
showing, getting off,
spinning arabesques whirli-whirli-gigidy-gig-girly-girly,
Ally screaming her head off.
April Showers lifted her power-fulfilling mouth,
from the astronaughtys pussy smiling,
and said, “I haven't had this much fun,
since captain Kirk blasted off.”



ALLY replied...

Going where no woman has gone before,
April brought her see-shore to see-shore,
a-washing the naughty-astronaughty with waves,
of glee in all she could see at her great divide.
Seeing her tongue slither like a snake,
inside her cave of wonders,
Ally nearly fainted as it played a tune,
and kept up with the beat of the drums.
Singing a song of sixpence, Ally’s voice rang out,
into the purple hues of the night sky,
sucking her clit she slid fingers in agin,
making her ache-quake-quiver and shake.
Ally’s voice was heavier in the thick air,
and she sounded off like a bull horn,
as she came in her rain of terror,
April showers had made her flowers bloom.
Laying dazed, amazed and crazed in her haze,
She felt a hot push in her bush, “Oh” she sighed,
“What wonderful creatures on this small planet,”
“A” sexual? Bisexual? A he-she she did see.
What a delightful surprise under-her-ware,
she rode her like a man never could or would,
feeling her engorged sex fuck-her-like-an-animal,
bucking up to meet each thrust with force.
Watching the screen, filling her katz-eyes till full,
oh what rapturous delight at this night,
such an amazing race dwelled in this place,
to never feel shame but allow the pleasures that be.
For all could see, and were amazed at her surprise,
“such a strange creature to be all woman and not both,
and oh what sounds she makes as pleasure peaks,
we must send for more of these wanton wonders.”
Fucking to the rhythm and pounding of the drums,
they beat fasted, faster, harder, harder, as did the two,
their bodies fit just right and as April came,
she just mewed and purred as she shuddered.
Licking her clean and helping her dress,
the astronaughty back in her suit so taut,
said her praise and thanks with a steamy kiss,
sucking her tongue with a farewell to the.
She arrived at her mother ship dizzy with delight,
set off for Mars to pull her lover from the bath,
to take he and her back down to earth,
for earth is by far the most earthy pleasure.

He/She's and let me see's.

One of my favorite blogs Lust Bites had some fun postings this week and funny enough two separate topics tied in to one experience I had. I decided to do a spin off, I hope no one minds, but I wanted to post some pix of the night in question and I wanted to put them here as I have been picking up too much spyware from photobucket.

Earlier in the week we talked of voyeurism and exhibitionism. Today the topic was about men who dress as women.

Back in April I had the opportunity to perform my standup comedy with a group of men/women doing a burlesque show. It was held at an upbeat gay bar in downtown Vancouver. It was the best time I'd had in years and it will always be fun to look back and remember that night. The men in drag were all so awesome. We did our standup comedy show 1st. Then they did their burlesque show, with the loud music and the buzz in the air we were all dancing with them. OK I was, I had met my friend there and he being in a wheel chair with a large respirator on the back, we were almost on the stage as there was not much room elsewhere and so with me standing by his side the music of course had me bouncing all over. Lastly was a pair of lesbians who played the most hypnotic African drum music. Watching these two gals playing their drums, the way they stared at each other the whole time they played together was very erotic, it was so hot.

That night my friends and I had a blast. Not to mention the ton of Jim Beam and Jack Daniels I was downing like water, then the fact that my other friend Jen had to practically hold me up and drag me off to her place via bus and skytrain. OK she did literally. My hero.

That night sparked a frenzy of writing between my friend and I for the next few days, we were in the habit of writing erotic poetry to each other as a form of correspondence and I will post some of it below, I've also posted other poems of ours in some of my past postings. Here is a taste of my night at Zhizome's.


ALLY wrote...
She snuck up from behind,
breathing soft in his ear so dear,
lick with a flick of her tongue,
along the vein of his neck, threatening to devour him.
Straddling and rocking to the beat,
of the primal African drumming humming,
her dark amber eyes aglow with the flow,
plunging his soul with lustful looks.
Taking his face in her hands gripping,
she sucks and plucks a bottom lip,
then a top lip, to sip and whip with a flip,
of her tongue before she drowns him with it.
Slipping her hot wet prod while he nod back,
she devours his mouth, sweet, treat, with heat,
searing his body with a kiss from the miss,
to make him want her wanton, wanting me.

The beat bangs at their ears,
while they bang on with cheers all around them,
the cat on him claws and yehaws,
as she rides the cuntrymusic like a bull horn.
Giving him a teat so sweet,
“Suck it my baby, suck, your in luck, I like to fuck!”
“While you have a mouthful, don’t speakeasy,
just please-me, please-me, squeeze-me.”

The drums get loud , thunder in the crowd,
they boom through the gloom of haze,
and come to a peak as they squeak,
together as one, they are done.
The crowd applauds.

APRIL SHOWERS


PAUL wrote...

Burlesque.
She did the splits for his gymnastics to take a spin on,
the light fantastic, licking slick to the quick, flicking,
tricking with treating, when eating the meting out,
of just, lust, desserts, asserting,
flirting, flounting, floating, on a flow,
of wow, now, do it now and how,
bring me low to sing me high C's, climbing to the trees.

Limbs akimbo doing the conga line and mambo,
our heads spinning with winning, twinning of minds meld,
like vulgar Vulvacans in heat, to greet,
the feat first in your class of titans, clashing,
crashing, thrashing, stashing, tongue lashing,
eyelashes fluttering like doves,
as I give your buns a buttering, as I shove from above,
stashing my shaft in your treasure chest cresting the breasts,
waving hello sailor as I tailor each lunge,
to your slick slave to your needs to be naughty women poem.

Pour in my cement, mix it up with the lynx minx
on the brink of blinking,
out the doubts with shouts from the roof top of her mouth,
a shaking in her south land of milk and honey,
waving her tits like flags of surrender,
as he throws her into the blender,
she exclaims his name of fame,
“Oh Jack! Oh Jack Daniels you came, you saw, you conquered.”
They dissolve in a cloud of laughter resolved.


ALLY replied...

Jimmy Beam.
Another night of romping through the raindrops of lick-her,
she espied Jim Beam as she fancied, prancied in the door,
with want of four on the floor, him in her door,
and a night of dining and whining.
Jim said “hey girl hows it hangin” as she grabs him by the balls,
and says “low n slow baby.”

Taking him to the back room with a booth,
with a tooth she pulled his zipper down,
and ripped his mean jeans off to see what he offered in his coffer.
“Twill do” she exclaimed as she pulled her dress above her head,
to show her wares with no under-wares.
Pushing him to sit in the seat while she was in heat of the night,
impassioned for his palate,
she climbed up on the table and spread the fine meal before him,
to dine out while she shout dirty everything’s at him.
Jimmy explored her back roads and inner cities,
while feeling up titties,
splashing through the puddles she was making,
running a muck, so perchance he could fuck.
She slithered on the table like an eel being eaten by the tail.
The screaming dinner bell rang out,
as she clanged her triangles tune,
wanting more but knowing she craved four on the floor,
with Jimmy’s beam driving his four by four.

Turning the table he pulled her and flipped her like a flapjack,
bending her over, and rammed her in her gear,
with his stick shift in all wheel squeal,
and laid into her with great thrust.
As she lay top half on the table,
spread eagle with her beagle bared,
he took hold of her hip and shoulder,
gripping her like tarmac, ramming her, grinding her gears.
“Fuck me like an animal Jimmy Beamer,
I wanna feel you from the inside,
this crazy bitch can’t get enough of you.” she sneered.
He drove her home and onward to the finish line,
wreaking havoc on her behind,
slamming it into gear, threatening to drop her transmission.
“Life in the fast lane feels so fine”,
they both chimed as they got off, at the next stop.


Tomorrow I will post another fairly long poem. I am still shocked we wrote it, it is so raw and unlike anything I've written. It has our burlesque he/she friend April Showers in it and plenty of voyeurism and exhibitionism.

An older poem of mine and Paul's from the beginning of our poetry correspondence.

This poem is, I think the third or fourth poem that Paul and I cunt-cock-ted from way back, when we first began to correspond by poetry. I will submit this whole book one day. It's 80 pages thus far and we've done more since. But I've been too busy with other things. So I thought I post something to keep my friends entertained.


“Paul”wrote,

The Yellow Mellow Cock-Tale-Server.

There once was a come-ly-dian, who made Paul,
stand up straight in her narrows,
like an arrow hitting the cow's weeping eye.
Time flies so fast, lets put everything in slow motion,
to drag it out as long as it can-can dance in the dark.
“You definitely were on top,
and on top of your and my form,
your own conclusions most fitting last night my friend.”
One good turn of phrase deserves another.

The cocktail server loved to serve cock on a silver platter,
as her tail was served right over the night,
with the skill of a champion tennis playher fiddle.
She reserved the right to enthuse service,
with humdigger synergy.
He massages her with messages,
as slowly as an ice age,
growing her nipples into pyramids,
did I pass the taste test,
and pin a pearly medal on each breast?
He fed her last night a vanilla milk shake rattle and roll,
she too, him to the backside of rebelief,
and found him wanting.
He lapped up every word that came out of her pussy's mouth, they did laps around their one track minds.
“If you found yourself castaway on a dessert island,
with a pirate what would you make him do?
Dig for treasure at X-rated marks the g-spot,
sis-boom-magic-box?”
“She has a piece of rubyfruit pie,
baking between her thighs, should we start?”
We desert by parting the rind with our dirty minds.
Of course he's ready for lift-get-off from the get-some-go,
to thrust his rocket into her woman in the moon,
and take her, make her see shooting stars.
But time flies,
so “lets go as slow as coral grows off the coast of Australia.”
His words were chilling,
they made her nipples grow into pyramids.
“The things that come out of your mouth,
make me want to come in your mouth,”
then concentrated it into his hands,
and he slid his fingers through her long dark hair,
like a gentle tropical waterfall.
She pulled her dress up,
like raising a curtain at a burlesque show,
and tell all, “if we're having dessert,
lets do it right and on the money,
shot your wad on the kitchen table,
I'll pull up a chair and part your hair down the middle,
and play your pussy like a fiddle.”
She sat on the table and pulled up her curtain,
her thighs as open as her mind's eye of the tiger,
he pulled up a chair,
and rudely stared starry eyed at her prize,
where he kissed inside each knee
making her shimmer like a flag in a breeze,
he massages her thighs with his palms,
memorizing every hair and purple fold,
like a great sonnet wanting to unwrap her,
like a Christmas present.
He traced the infinity symbol on the inside of her thighs,

“gotta run off at the mouth...


“Ally”responded,

Gee my yellow mellow cloud,
usually comes in the form of Valium or Lorazepam,
glad I can have that drugging effect,
if only it worked on all men like that,
oh what a following of wagging tails I’d have now,
but alas those days of delighting tails who hunger pole dancing,
is in the past and fading further away as the years go by.
Although I still can-can do my version of the can-can,
never in the dark cause I-wanna-see-see-saw it all,
but only lasts on top now for a minute,
before the legs-legs fall and burn from the sky above me.
Tis funny you should mention pyramid formed breasts,
as that’s what mine look like now,
only pointing downward to the ground,
flat and have no longer a 3D dimension,
yet demented, still lovely to suckle.
Oh a gal would gladly accept a pirate,
and an island to ravage and feed her one track lap,
and knowing men like she does,
would have to guild him to the X,
as most men are too blind to spot the G.
I am sure he would pass the taste test,
as well as you with sweet coconut-juices.
Oh to feed you ruby-fruit pie,
in the tropical waterfalls of Australia,
as we bask on the coral sandy shore of for-get-me-not sand,
where not only the stars are shooting.
Another neat place to be marooned,
twood be Christmas Island,
where at every table twas a present just for you,
bearing fruity folds of-a-fiddle, each hidden,
behind silk curtains shimmering in the sun-light-breezes,
scented like jasmine and coconut-drink-my-milk.
Play my fiddle each would scream,
play it like the devil-went-down to my Georgia-bush.
When you win your present,
she will reward you with an inviting want-you-in-me prize,
where she will play your flute like a concerto,
in 3 different positions, to bog-your-mind glory.

Yes our little game of words-mind-body last night,
left my mind spinning and wanting as well, thankyou.
Who would have thought,
when I asked you to stimulate my mind and keep me entertained,
you would be so very up to the task.
Amazing abso-fuckin-lutely amazing.
Stimulating mind-breath-body-blood.
A treat among treats and a will-never-forget-me-not experience.

A Few Shorts

The Rendevous

The bright moon low on the horizon, perfectly casting light and shadow, showing the sinuous lines and bulk of the man she craved.

A rendevous on a hot night under the oak had made her quiver all day in anticipation.

From behind him, she slithered her hands up his taut back, down and around to his chest, to pinch and play with his nipples, feeling them harden.

His neck and arms stimulated, becomes goose flesh, hairs rise, as she runs her tongue up him to taste his sweat, smell his musky odor.

A full moon fuck, what a delight.


A Feast

She’s hot, fingers playing her fiddle. A knock at the door steals her heat, lowering her skirt she yells "come in".

A neighbour never desired before, but now she’s horny and hoping he can smell her lust.

He ask’s "Can I borrow some sugar."

"Not until you have a taste of my sugar." she cooed as she settled back lazily in the soft arm chair. She raised her skirt, parted her legs slinging one over the arm rest to show him a wet treat.

He dropped his sugar bowl and hungrily fell to his knees. He eagerly feasted.


Toes

I put my feet upon his lap, the movie sux. He massages my foot. "That feels good. Ow careful with my toe."

"Is this better?" Wrapping his mouth over my big toe sucking it, licking it moving slowly from toe to toe.

I’ve never felt a jolt of pleasure snake up my legs so swiftly, make my clit throbbing and instantaneously flooding my cunt with hot juices.

"That’s fucking amazing! Suck my pussy like that. Please?" Pulling up her skirt raising a leg to show her naked cunt for the taking.

Instead he drove his cock into her fiercely.


Response to a Smutty Poem

Oh we’re a devilish delight tonight,
such fuck me not so gently words you’ve spewed,
made me oo’d , ah’d,
I applaud you.

I am so wet,
could almost sweat, if it wasn't for the chill in my air.

An hour before, I had fun with my joy-toy,
before your wanton wording and flirting.

Now I wonder should I go take another ride,
slip-slide on my faux boy-toy.

Breathing has left me out of breath,
you steal it from my lungs,
writing of your guns and black hat,
eating me till I scream, dream,
and how I am so fucking fuckable.


Written by: Ally Robertson

My first blog "Oh My Gog!"

I'm putting this here as a sample of the erotic poetry in the book that an anonomous friend (Paul) and I have collaborated on. I've finished the final edit, but as poetry can be hard to publish I think I may wait till my erotic romance novel is completed and published before I continue to break into the poetry market.

I decided to actually remove the following poems from our book as I did not want to step on anyone elses toes by publishing it. Our book is a collection of poems that either he or I would write the first rendition and then the other would compliment it by completing it. It was great fun creating them all. We decided to write this piece when a telephone conversation betrayed my passion for the TV show Grey's Anatomy. Enjoy!

"Paul" wrote.

Getting A Second Opinion.

She needed a specialist deeply, madly,
truly good to go all the way to Tipperary of the hat,
for what ails Ally.

Her curse worth the disease of men,
who never please other them themselves,
elves with dwarf cocks, mocking her silk stockings,
putting her out in the stocks for shock,
and aw shucks, fuck therapy.

She made an appointment, for ointment for her ornament,
or treatment for her,
lick-trickery tock the mouth ran up the cock cleaning clock,
she sat on the examination table of elements,
of surprise birthday present and accounted,

for square meals a day.

In came Dr. McSteamy to open her clam baking like a kiln,
inquiring minds want to know,
"What seems to be the problem Ms. R?"

Eyes fluttering like the butterflies in her tummy sighing,
she replied playing-doctor-fully,
"I think I'm suffering from a bad case of nymphomania."

"That's terrible, I feel for you," he answered,
"What makes you think you're a nympho?"

"Well Dr. McSteamy for starters I've only just met you,
but I want to suck your cock. What's up doc?"

"I'm going to exam you head to camel-toe,
thoroughly inside and outside,
and backside, out of your dirty mind on your blind G spot on."

Ms. R unbottoned her blouse squirming,
her beating bottom silver dollar, slowly revealing her breasts,
then she let the blouse fall from her shoulders,
like the scales from a Christian's eyes.

Her hard nipples begging for attention,
the zipper of her pants dropped like a stone,
and she wriggled out of them like a piece of,
Wrigley's spearmint chewing gum from its package.

She lay on the table for Dr. Mcsteamy,
to get to the root of the problem,
first testing, teasing, tasting her reflexes,
he twirled her nipples betwixt thumb and index,
dialing her knobs to get the right station in life,
he gave her a thorough breasts exam,
topping them off with deep suction.

His hands all over her like an army of horny peeping tomcat ants,
playing tic-tac-toe on her quivering belly with his tongue,
lower, he opened her up blooming rose, dewy in the morning.

She bit her lip as he parted her rosy lips,
to tip his tongue's hat trick on her slick,
starwberry shortcake, aching for baking,
making all get out of go to town down under the thunder.

She grabbed his head on,
held him closer then a G string her along ,
when he hit her right on the G spot,
grinding her pussy in his face like a watermill.

The good doctor didn't need to ask for directions,
to get down and around Ms. R's astounding downtown,
his fingers and tongue by turns hard as rock, soft as velvet,
unfolding her folds like origami, orgistic, organic orgasms.

Finished licking her lips, he raise his head licking his lips,
blood shot eyes, wet behind the ears, smiled and said,
"I'm going to page Dr. McDreamy we need a second opinion."

As quick as greased lightning Dr. McDreamy entered the room,
to see Ms. R spread out on the table,
ready willing and able, like an all-you-can eat buffet.

Reaching for his zipper Dr. McDreamy groaned,
"Now say ahhhhh!"

"Ally" replied.

She ahhed and oooed at what she sawed,
He pulled out the stirrups and placed her afoot,
Spreading her legs, she said "there is a Gawd,"
the hard thing betwixed his legs felt so gewt.

As McSteamy was stymied at her hot kiss,
McDreamy was drugged with her hot wet spot,
Ms. R was in sweet miz-R-E, and stretched in bliss,
excited at the idea of having both and being caught.

"I still wanna suck your cock Mc.Steamy what do you say?"
He raised an eyebrow, stood-on-a-stool, and served her pronto,
While Mc.Dreamy was still thrusting, pumping away,
both amused, they were both her side kick, like ‘Tonto.’

They both came at the same time in one shot,
She was filled with creamy Mc.Dreamy, Mc.Steamy,
both spilling them selves over, but each in a separate pot,
while high pitch noises squeaked out of her so screamy.

"We both concur that all here seems just fine,"
"Whom ever said you were a Nympho was dumb"
"Your body was responsive to our tasting of your wine"
"your body was a very healthy receptacle for both our cum"

"You are cured...please cum again!!!"

"Oh please may I?"