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Ryan Jones

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15 Moving In The Right Direction

About Ryan Jones

  • Rank
    Newbie

Profile Information

  • Age in Years
    69
  • Favorite Genres
    Sci-Fi
  • Location
    Washington DC
  • Interests
    My boyfriend first of all, then writing, reading and playing live poker at the casino!

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  1. I do that with my godson and goddaughter's kids. I do get the looks but they are used to it, I did the same thing with them when they were young. Also, I'm one of those people who can't lose a game on purpose. I make sure the parents and kids understand it before we start to play. I don't care if it's Chutes and Ladders or chess, they have to beat me if they want to win.
  2. Any movie using Pink Floyd music in the trailer is okay by me! Seriously though Dune has always been one of my favorite books and series of books. I might even go see it in a theater, haven't seen a movie in a theater since ET. I do hate movies though that are in parts. I never saw any of the LOTR movies, or The Hobbit. I waited until the entire series was finished, then watched them at home. It's like writing in a way, I seldom will read stories that are "in progress" because I always fear getting too interested and the author doing something like dying so I can't get the ending. Except for Rocky Horror Picture Show and that doesn't really count, it's less a movie than an experience.
  3. Okay, I'll go ahead and post the poem here. Looking at the user interface I don't see any way to "Tag". I've never used whatever interface this is to post messages. Insatiable The early morning sun wakes me and, as I've done almost every day since you've been here, I turn to look at you, still asleep beside me. The light embraces your long blond hair as it fans out on the pillow, framing your face in a glowing halo of gold. I can't resist and I lightly brush my fingertips across your cheek, feeling your breath warm and moist against my palm. I marvel as always at your innocent expression, wondering where you are in your dreams. You stir lazily, yawning, and now the cherub is gone. It's its place is a horny angel, clear blue eyes matching the lust in my own. I feel your arms come up around my neck and pull me down on top, not waiting to see if my body is responding, you know that I'm always ready. You take hold of me and, opening your legs, fold yourself up to guide me in, starting the long slow dance of love. The sensations are overwhelming, surrounded by your near 100 degree heat on the inside and a far hotter feeling of passion outside. Your legs wrap tightly around me, drawing me in deeper, not wanting me to pull out, even for a second. But retreat is the last thing on my mind. I want to feel you totally surrender your body and soul to me, as I have long since done to you. "Faster" I hear you moan, working up to your own orgasmic peak. Your muscles grip me like a second mouth, daring me to hold anything back, demanding that I do it to you harder and I comply, the bed creaking beneath us as movements become a blur. Your motions become even more frenzied and I see your mouth open in a silent scream. I can feel the warm sticky wetness between us and this finally sends me over the edge as I fill you up, covering your mouth roughly with mine to steal your breath away. Finally my motions slow, coherent thought returns and I can feel you relax. Slowly you open those blue eyes, look up at me and say "Do it again..and again..and again" I'm not really a poet, per se. I generally write stories, of the erotic and not erotic variety. It's just occasionally something comes in my head that doesn't seem to be a story, something that won't have the necessary length. Then it becomes the type of writing you see above. Once the places reopen in my area I'm pretty certain I'll take it to open mic and read it to the crowd, they have separate gay nights once a month. I'll drag the boyfriend with me so I can embarrass him by obviously reading it directly to him.
  4. Hi everyone. I'm new to this particular forum. I've been writing stories for 50 years and have tossed in the occasional poem when I thought the subject could be covered succinctly enough. However unlike most of the poetry on here, I've never (since forced to in HS and college) written anything rhyming or with any particular rhythm patterns. Perhaps it's just me but it feels too restrictive, the word I wished to use was always too long, or too short. What made me think of poetry is the other day my boyfriend was watching me sleep and I woke up and asked him why. He told me that when I slept he could see the child I used to be. So that led me to write him a love poem. I thought that line was going to be in the poem but it never made it, other words crowded it out. I thought I had a question in here but now that I've gotten this far, I can't seem to locate the question. I guess I could post it but it might not quite make the cut, it's for sure not making it into any poetry anthologies unless they're erotic in nature.
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