August 25, 2008 § 2 Comments

The god of sleep and the goddess of eroticism.

The bringer of sleep and the bringer of pleasure.

One so rich in colour.

One so gentle in colour.

One so fierce.

One so calm.

One creating obsession and lust.

One creating dreams and sleepy eyes.

One absent from the other.

In more ways than one.

They dance around the minds of all who possess them.

One touch.

One breath.

Silk drops of smoke clogging your throat.

Wrapped in both ribbons.

Bound by the two.

The spell never to be broken.

Entangled bodies.

Moans and sighs.

Painted wings.

Mouths and searching tongues.

Drawn apart legs.

Hands and fingers.

Pressed against soft pale limp skin.

For you are their canvas.

To design as they please.


©Copyright of Charlotte Thorpe



August 8, 2008 § 2 Comments


She had not been here before.

This place was new to her.

The only sight greeting her eyes was the transcending colour of darkness, whirling around in her head.

The only noises that welcomed her ears were soft moans and thick sighs.

She felt non existent here.

Her body numb with a mind of it’s own.

Her feet moving for her.

Her hips swaying as she felt herself searching out the room.

The smell of staleness surrounding her senses.

Her hands reaching for the cold stone beside and around her.

Searching out the curves.

The loops.

The holes.

The place felt old.

It’s crumbling stone falling at her feet and onto her toes.

But she knew one thing for sure.

She was not alone in this room.

In this world.

In her imagination.

As her hands kept searching she felt something completely different.

A feeling of skin.


Soft like silk.

Stretched like a canvas against her fingertips.

She could feel her breath catching tightly in the back of her throat as she stepped back.

Her body slowly going into shock.

As what was around her the whole time, appeared around her.

Men, sculptured like god’s.

Women carved out like goddesses.

Costumes of amazement.


Feathers fanned out.

Silk and satin draped over and around their delicate frames.

Gold skin.

She could not move her feet.

Her body stuck under their beauty.

Under their spell.

She could feel her body aching.

Twitching for their touch.

She could feel their presence moving forward.

Fascinated by her.

Touching her skin.

Searching for her hidden stories.

Their hands gliding around the peak of her neck.

Hands on hands.

Lips on lips.

Creating her orgasm.

Faster and faster.

Silver tears streaking her face.

She felt like a mass of people.

She felt overwhelmed.

Their hands undressing her.

Letting her clothes fall gracefully to the floor beneath them.

The thump echoing in her ears.

Everything felt like time stood still then.

Her body arching.

Consuming them.

Breathing them.

They were her spell.

And nothing more.



©Copyright of Charlotte Thorpe

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