Climax at Wanton Plaza has been published in All of Me Vol. II, courtesy of Shadow Spark Publishing. Featured art is by Virut.
Listen to Climax at Wanton Plaza by Richard Charles Stevens (Cyborg Suite)
Listen to Cyborg by Turbo Knight
Waltzing through the shadows to the light of sweet release
Sweet release
Waltzing through the shadows to the light of sweet release
Sweet release
Sweet release
Waltzing through the shadows to the light of sweet release
(Sweet release)
Shadows were merely a façade
(Sweet release)
A gown to be discarded as reminder of the charm within each scar
Impressed upon sweet flesh that rests upon the bones no sticks or stones could ever break in wake of full exposure
Disclosed with cool composure are the flowers grown from light and air
Declared with an ethereal composure
Clothing immaterial
Fit not the fresh criteria
Inferior these garments pardoned
Fallen angels hearkening
The light within each darkening
Burns bright to singe the shadows dimly harboured
Seeking out explicit clues
Of parlour drenched in vivid hues
Chamber famed of reds bled through
To quench upon siliceous ooze
The stench of sex doth filter through the misted breaths suggestive as they skew
Each muscle flexed through deft contraction
Actioning expressive traction
Lessening the putrefaction
Rendering no feudal fashion
Waxen like the creamy sap of trees in rapture absolute
Hinted at forbidden fruits
The kind that mortal man refutes
Waxen like the creamy sap of trees in rapture absolute
Sipping from the flutes of eyes that widen in acute salute
To capture prize untied of disrepute
Studious beholders of the beauty on exhibit
Silent splendour lent address surrendered of its mute confession
Thrashing midst the passion this elicits
Nectar in the process of engendered liquefaction
Rendering the appetite to whet the height of satisfaction
Tender in exact embrace
Vendor of the tactile taste of wept tears smeared to lubricate the klaxon up against the grate
Thrumming in wild-eyed anticipation
Coming deep inside the tidal basin
Safe within this haven as the Ravens eye confides of expectation grand to fertilise these galvanised wastelands betwixt the thighs
Slipping
Sliding
Gripping
Tight
This whipcord of uncorked delight
Teasing forth the nectar swelled inside
Contorting
Morphing
Each endorphin scorching in the frame of flamed desire
Portrait of exhilarated fire in seek of heat
Waltzing through the shadows to the light of sweet release
Richard Charles Stevens
Keeper of The Crimson Quill
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“Waxen like the creamy sap of trees in rapture absolute” 🌳🌳
The music used adds a delightfully smutty 80s feel to this piece of not-so-smutty erotica and it works fabulously! Another band to explore too.
I love that you picked up the vibe of this piece. It’s basically word porn, without the smut, more literal, as it teases with its phrases and the aim is to raise the temperature through our marvellous English language. And how I enjoyed reciting the waxen line you cherry picked, so much so, that I had to repeat it. 🌳🌳