Condemned

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

Desire for you
will damn my eternal soul;
My lust condemns me.

Sunshine and Rain

By Bud Koenemund

You, Love, are sunshine.
I’m rain. But, I am content,
for flowers need both.

The Devil and the Darkness

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

For M.

  Michelle had a boyfriend she loved. But – from time to time – she needed to see Brian. He wasn’t a friend with benefits… not exactly. Brian was, she thought, the Devil. Somehow, he knew her darkest desires. Often, she felt shame at the disgusting things he made her do – acts she would never reveal to another living soul. Then, she’d admit to herself that he never forced her to do anything, and that she enjoyed the way he made her cum over and over. She’d feel the warm tingle between her legs and pick up her phone to call him again.

Mute

By Bud Koenemund

For Tahni

Thoughts of you persist;
Impure desires o’erwhelm,
yet I remain mute.

Erased

By Bud Koenemund

Vows are only words;
powerless ‘gainst desire:
erased by passion.

Mutual Assured Destruction

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

For B.

  They keep their distance. As if by some unspoken mutual agreement, maintaining a safe separation; knowing they are two chemicals that when combined would react violently; building heat until annihilation. They trade surreptitious glances; looking away, not to appear reluctant, but fearing others might recognize the burning desire in their gaze; leading to a worse – more public – destruction. They lust in painful silence – vainly struggling against the concupiscent gravity pulling them together; hungry to touch, to taste, to envelope each other fully; wanting only to surrender to their forbidden passion; even if the price of that fantasy would prove cataclysmic.

I Know Your Fantasies

By Bud Koenemund

A 200 Word Story

  “I want to be loved and respected,” she said.
  “You deserve that,” he replied. “Someone who will make sure you’ve eaten, and that you get enough sleep; who sends you ‘good morning, beautiful’ texts, and tells you to be careful when you leave the house.”
  She stared at him.
  “But,” he continued, “I’ve seen your social media accounts. I’ve seen the stuff you ‘Like’ and re-blog, and I know what you really want. I know your fantasies.”
  “I…” she began.
  “You want to be dominated,” he interrupted. “You want to be controlled; tied up; handcuffed; gagged; used; slapped; spanked, and called names.”
  “Oh, my God,” she moaned, quietly.
  “You want someone to pull your hair, and wrap their hand around that pretty neck of yours,” he growled, not pausing. “And, you want to be fucked hard until you can’t even think.”
  Her gaze fell to the floor and she blushed.
  “Look at me,” he commanded.
  Hesitantly, she complied.
  “And, after all that,” he said, “you want to be cared for, and cuddled to sleep.”
  His fingers slid between her legs; brushing her inner thighs.
  “If you want me to stop, say so,” he whispered. “Otherwise, you’re my little whore now.”

Santa

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

Crawl onto my lap.
Whisper your naughty wishes.
We’ll make each come true.

Addict

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

For Demi.

  He’ll tell you that he has recovered. That he’s clean and sober. That it’s been 10 years since his last relapse. And, he’ll admit that’s all a lie. He knows that he’s an addict. He will always be an addict. The desire; the craving; the itch never goes away. He can feel it creeping in the dark corners of his mind. No matter how long he’s been clean, the temptation doesn’t fade – will never fade completely. He fights battles every day – sometimes every minute. Most he wins; some he loses. But, the next day, he gets up to fight again.

The Center of Attention

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

For J.

  Eyes were naturally drawn to her. This wasn’t due solely to her physical beauty, but the attraction was undeniable. Some tried to be subtle – stealing glances – others less so, all but staring at her. Almost unconsciously, he found himself in the latter group; his gaze tracing over the curves of her body – lingering here and there. When she danced, her hips swayed back and forth – hypnotizing him. With each look, the fire of his lust grew hotter. He imagined what it would be like to touch her – even as the guilt of desiring a woman half his age burned him.

Tell Me What You Want

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

For Lindsay

  Even as he dominated her, she could sense his care – desire and respect, control and freedom – all at once. One hand twisted her hair; the other thrust between her legs – fingers roughly manipulating her clit.
  She squirmed, but his body pressed her against the wall; both pinning her in place, and preventing her from falling as she writhed. His lips trailed over her neck while she moaned.
  “Tell me what you want,” he whispered, breaking contact.
  She fought for the breath to form words.
  “Tell me,” he repeated. “Or, I’ll stop.”
  Her body shuddered.
  “Please…” she panted. “I need to…”

Love

By Bud Koenemund

I'm constantly torn

between revelation and

self-preservation.

Madness

By Bud Koenemund

Images tease me;

driving imagination

closer to madness.

The Ghost of Christmas Past

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

  It’s not the money; let’s be clear about that from the start. Though $140 for the special edition, collectible bottle of whiskey she needed to complete her set wasn’t cheap, I had the money… and a desire to please her.
  No, the issue is the glaring example of my continued foolishness; of how – during a global pandemic – I set out upon a quest for this grail: an item she’d mentioned once, months before, during a late-night discussion about things we collect. For me, another lesson in idiocy; thinking that showing I cared for her, and listened to her, mattered.

All

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

My flesh craves your touch.

My tongue desires your taste.

But, my soul wants all.

Two More Haiku for Lindsay

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

Creation

Your inspiration

drives my imagination

to create this art.

Repentance

My sin lies in thee:

concupiscent desire;

which I repent not.

War

By Bud Koenemund

A Haiku

For Lindsay

Impure thoughts flourish,

even as fantasy wars

'gainst reality.

Control

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

  “I’m in control this time,” she cooed, pushing him into a chair.
  Her hands, clad in elbow-length, black satin opera gloves, slid off his shoulders as she knelt between his legs.
  “Are you?” he countered.
  “Mmmm, hmmm,” she murmured.
  He reached out to touch her, but she swatted his hand.
  “Be good, or I’ll stop,” she ordered.
  “You know what happens when you tease me,” he warned.
  She dragged her fingers across his stomach, and clawed his inner thighs. He let out a low growl. She knew she didn’t have long before he’d take over… just as she wanted.

Desire

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

  Music thunders as we stumble through the back door – clearly marked “No Exit” – finding a dimly lit alley. Surrounded by millions, we two alone exist in this momentary solitude. Mouths mash together; tongues dance; limbs entangle; fingers tear at clothing, fumbling with enclosures.

  “Do it,” you cry; consent, plea, and command all at once.

  Eyes locked on mine, you spin to face the wall; tugging the fabric of your dress, bunching it at your waist. Pounding bass pulsates through our bodies. Flesh and souls merge; moans echo in the darkness. Trembling; plunging steadily deeper, as desire transforms two into one.

A Love Letter in Haiku Form - For National Poetry Writing Month 2017

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

I

Oh, sweet green-eyed muse;

thy emerald beauty has

beguiled my pen.

II

What words could I use

to tempt your heart as you have

enchanted my own?

III

Would my feeble pleas

serve to entice elegance,

or prove me a fool?

IV

Desire cannot

be expressed in verse alone.

Still, the soul must speak.

V

While I lack talent

with speech, these tributes to thee

spring forth unimpaired.

VI

Though I fear the flames

lust has kindled will consume

me, passion rises.

VII

I long to enjoy

the touch of your lips ‘gainst mine –

a divine union.

VIII

I beg caresses;

to feel the warmth of your skin

under my fingers.

IX

I yearn to lay close,

our limbs entangled, as we

whisper endearments.

X

The sanctuary

I seek rests in your bosom;

exquisite solace.

XI

Lady, I live in

faint hope of someday holding

your soft hand in mine.

XII

These creations live

by thy inspiration, and

wither in neglect.

XIII

Though weak lines cannot

match your radiance, I pray

they will woo thy heart.