Erotic Poetry

Poem: Poling Polar

Polar vortex, snow up to my thighs like anything not plowed is lava,
cold biting through windows while we huddle naked on a blanket you spread
after feeding me scallops fried in canola oil on a cast iron skillet.

You gave me six orgasms with your finger and tongue,
so much pleasure crashing my crotch I didn’t mind
when you slipped a finger up my butt and let me
fuck both to pleasure a fifth, a sixth time
before you rolled me over, used your thumb
and plugged me with your dick until
you came on my back.

This is how I break the coldest night in history.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Touching my Butt

Your greedy eyes drink my butt curving these pajama pants
like it is new,
Like I haven’t been doing squats every day,
leg lifts and difficult warriors for twenty reps
to build up my booty.

Your heavy touch rounds my rump
with gleeful delight, savoring every flexing
mound like the first time you touched tits
at 1:00am after crossing down on foot.

I’m brushing my teeth and scowling
with a wordless growl you ignore.
But for you, it was like the grocery store impulse buy aisle
and you’re gone to our room reading your phone
in seconds.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Winter’s Spatter

Winter is the Earth’s blasting wet dream
stimulated from the equator’s erogenous tickle
in the waves against Chile doubling off
the desert subduction mountains.

It is the creaming splat as the cum
meets fridged pole air like the slap
of ropy jizz across the face and an open mouth.

Turn your head to the sky and swallow every snowflake.



This poem is directly related to “Winter’s Backdoor Gift,” which you can get for free here:

Erotic Poetry Jocelyn's Corner

Giving away free books the cruelest way to make money

Have you heard about the concept of the “loss leader?” Walmart does it with television sets. They price their cheapest TV lower than their competitors. You go in because it is a huge deal that you can’t pass up, and end up buying a different TV b/c it is a little bit more for a little bit better quality.

The same goes for me. I’m giving away two books right now if you are interested. You can get them now on the home page. “Winter’s Backdoor Gift,” and “Don’t Punish My Backdoor” are free when you join my mailing list. I’m betting that if you download these two one-off stories you’ll be so interested in my books that you’ll either read them through KU or buy them for a few bucks.

The same goes for when I put up a 5-day free book special on Amazon. The hope is that some of the readers picking up a free book are going to turn around and buy or read some of my other books.

I have to give away my work slapping in the face people that have bought it. That sucks.

It is cruel to me for not paying me for my hard work and effort producing the content, but worse it draws in the people looking for free and sets a precedent that if they wait long enough they’ll get my work for free, and I want to be an author that survives from her writing.

So giving away books works, but it is a cruel Sugar Daddy. Nothing like swallowing a cock and cum for cash like doing a free book promotion in the hopes of a good tip.

This second week of January I’ve been running a series of free book promotions on Amazon essentially giving away my series starters in the hopes that people will enjoy them enough to pick up the rest of the series. I’m offering a loss leader. I want people to pick up my book for free and move through the rest of my catalog.

It is working.

Ever since I started it my book sales are up to $15.00 a day from the about $2-$5.00 a day. That is awesome! I want to continue it but I don’t know if I have enough wide reach or renown to make it happen.

I finished the huge threesome sex scene today in the latest “Neighbor’s Backdoor Deal” series, or “Sugar Daddy Deals.”  Christina worked Josh’s dick into her sorority sister’s ass and they loved it.

I feel like the stakes are gone from the book and the compelling story is fading for the length. I don’t see it being interesting enough to read all of.

I have to find some reason to move the story forward though it is a simple Sugar Daddy pays a young girl to live with him on campus, he gets jealous. she freaks out. they fall in love, move in together. He abuses her ass with too much butt sex, they bring in another girl, they fight. They leave each other. They reunite. done. Boring.

But… it needs something else. Something to keep it interesting but believable to the characters. I don’t know. Perhaps that is why I’m still working on it after 30 days. I’m struggling to make it readable and don’t know where I want to go with it. Frustrating.

At least I’m putting words to page and I’m at 31,000 words for the story.



Join my email list for these free books, and others when you join.

Stay subscribed for insights into your favorite characters and my latest book releases!


Erotic Poem:

I am the jostling breasts held tight to the chest
by firm cotton that stinks from sweat and perfume I know you like
but secretly hate wearing.

I am the spilled beer on my cleavage
that totally wasn’t an accident though I laugh embarrassed
like it was one so you’ll pat me down and offer napkins.

I am the skirt I pull past my thighs to my bony hip bones
where you look and smile seeing I’m not wearing panties,
and am the smile you take me with.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Breaking in

I like reaching behind my back pulling my cheeks apart as
much as I like laying on my back, knees hooked by wrists going sore
from lack of blood
while you break into my tightest entrance, ignoring my clit,
and squeeze me wider than I can struggle breath.
My cringing face encourages you harder
and I’m screaming while you stretch me for next time.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Things I’ll do to You

I want to wrap my chest around your heat,
around the strong throbbing need you beg me to kiss
to swallow,
and I do to give it lube enough to push without hurting
either of us.

I’ll pump my torso on my needs so you can
blast my chin with satisfaction
smiling what I can coax you into.

Tremble at my powers.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Skin offering

My shower-fresh skin slides apart quick
waiting for your hands and lotion to slide
up from toes to knees, thighs to slip

I am the fresh flesh offering
spread open on your plate,
our bed, ready for your tongue.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Jiggling Skin

A thousand hours wasted on the gym
and all you want to do is see me jiggle,
watch my flapping fat smashed together with bikini straps
so small and thin they bite into my back like wire.

All my tightness falters beneath your attention,
your touch, and focus on my breasts
like the round muscle in my ass neglected
until your hands find a hold and leverage me
to explosion.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Holding your hand

After, you run to get a paper towel shouting thanks
and how good I feel inside, how good I am screaming your name.

I like to feel your biceps bulging into my shoulders
and the warmth your blood shoves through your palms
unlike my own traitorous cold fingers and toes
even after planting my belly on all fours to scream my climax
before you finished, twitching hard to force it faster.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Displaying

Peace on the couch is sprawling against soft cushions
like this pose isn’t stomach-churning uncomfortable.
My breasts are bound for lust against your strong neck and eyes
that pierce through the bravado I’m braving.

Your hands when they find my skin find me sweating
not from exertion but anticipation for what you’ll take.
My open legs are for you to press between,
for you to force apart with how my display makes you enraged.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Beaches and Lotion

Your hot hands move with strength from heel
through your thumbs up my thighs,
your thumbs slip close to my chilled sweetness
fingertips catching a few times on my labia.

Are you dipping into my honey on purpose or
is it like coloring outside the lines from aggression?

My widening legs are the invitation you take
and minutes later I’m gasping while you fill me
your hands slipping on my forearms as you’re climbing up,
slipping like you’re slipping inside like the sound of waves
against sand: louder, faster than you expect.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Coming Thanks

Legs as long as Thanksgiving tables full of food
spread with a black see-through thong biting into my sweetness.

Eat my feast with your hungry thankfulness
ignoring football, ignoring too many beers, and
dipping two fingers into my massaged kale delight.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Once you touch

My legs twitch for long minutes staving off sleep
after you’re gone, long minutes to quivers echoing the
heavy strength your fingers laced over my crotch
as you massaged my butt, found pleasure
in groping my cracks and mounds.

It isn’t sleep that comes long minutes
of squirming need later.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Halloween Treats

Bring me treats like I’m a trick on Halloween,
like my costume is my lingerie, like I’m roaming house to house
with my hand out but I only want your candy.

Tonight I’ll be in black stockings, garter, lace
tight bra squeezing breasts for you to lick
and pull off with your teeth like you’re tearing
into me like wrapped chocolate bars.

Trick or Treat, I want you to eat tonight;
I’m dressed up in costume ready to
devour what candies you’ve given me.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Toe Rubbing Nights

Touch my toes with heavy hands,
fingers like a whisper of your desire weaving between my bones
and up my soles.

A hot breath oozes through your lungs
wheezing for my moisture between my legs.

You can rub my feet every night,
take my legs against your chest and fly your fingers
to my dreams.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Powers

Bjorn’s speed and size are faster than his cold touch, leeching heat and blood,
like Simeon’s silken warmth from pulsing muscles and girth as wide as a giant wolf’s paw.
Hunter breaks me with his power, his muscles bulging anger into my flesh, like claws he tried to destroy.

And Brooke’s heaving sweat throwing locked door open with strength against her size and weight,
after, when all spent, covered in gushed climax,
corset shredded ruin
bikini bottoms ripped,
and fur cape rimmed by dirt, mud, and sweat from three men, monsters, at once.



See “Alison is Inside Lust” for more!

Erotic Poetry

Poem: What you find in bed

i’m finding love in all ten fingers of your touch,
finding peace in the cooling calm of your breath
finding warmth from the simple silence you moan so close
i can feel my hairs dancing from your action.

push down the nude pajama pants minding the
loose waist over my hips, hips wide with running,
and ignore the catching scratch of your callouses

on my fair, ignored tan, skin.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Dreaming

I’m staring at butts on television longer than I should,
smiling with a finger on my nipple, on my center,
teasing out joy from the actor’s sculpted sex
like he was made for TV.

You’re staring too at the gyrating skin.
The ripples I’m enjoying are in your blind spot
filled by tits and ass so tight and tense
I’m flicking glances too.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Bribes

What can you see when I’m reaching for a taco?
Is my shirt too low cut or flimsy to hold my cleavage in?
Can you see my blushing hint of blatant revealing?

I wonder if you’re aware how much of my outfit is planned, how much of my display is controlled and
not happenstance, like a water wheel moves by choice location, and not the roaring brook nearby not touching it. 

I’m a craftswoman of display, as artisan as any painter
making work for a wealthy patron, 
but you’re my buyer, and I’m willing to sell low,
even free after this dinner.

Erotic Poetry

Poem: Fear like Rain

Are you finding worry in the rain?
Finding sadness in the raindrops darkening your pants?
Don’t worry about it now, sunlight is hiding behind the cloud blanket,
blessed sun, permanent, so constant all life here is beholden. 

Are you finding tears in my coldness?
Like the rain, I’m but a cover between your lust and joy,
my wetness your sun, my warmth your animus. 

Don’t let your tears keep you from my waist, 
keep you from my promises,
they’re better than the rain, 
better than the sun.