Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta anguish. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta anguish. Mostrar todas las entradas

domingo, 2 de diciembre de 2018

CÓMO DUELE LA AUSENCIA DE TUS BESOS...



Te encuentro bajo mis sábanas
Te percibo entre mis anhelos
Te mueves por dentro de mis querencias
Me estremezco  aún sin verte

Nadie sabe lo que siente
Todos lloran por un amor perdido
Sin darse cuenta que lo tuvieron en sus manos
Y que se les diluyó por entre sus miedos

Aquí estoy deshilvanando mis sueños
Cual gata que se enreda en la madeja
Trato de lanzarte al río
Pero te aferras y no te quejas

Mi vientre te ha sentido bailando una rumba flamenca
Tus castañuelas las he oído entre mis piernas
Toda tu música ha sido perfecta
Sólo que tú no te has dado cuenta.

Hoy visto de piel mi vida
De esa manera tus manos podrán irrumpir por cualquier rendija
Nada podrá oponerse a esta sensación
La vida fluye cual niño en pleno alumbramiento

Me siento a meditar y es tu aroma el que me seduce
Coloco mi mente en la nada y tus ojos resplandecen como estrellas
Retiro mis pensamientos y tu sonrisa envuelve mi alma

Sigo en el mismo resplandor de tu boca
Que si esto es pecado no me importa
Sólo quiero verme en ese tu ser que me disloca.




Carmen Pacheco
@Erotismo10
01 de diciembre de 2018


domingo, 5 de agosto de 2018

I WENT A FOOL...




Today you were very close
Today was the opportunity of my life
Today your breath touch my eyelashes
Today your eyes promised to love me

The breeze brought back your scent
That is combined with the smell of flowers
However, they were not confused with each other
Because your essence smelled like a man in love.

Our eyes embraced in the coming and going of our bodies
Hands, like butterflies fluttered to the rhythm of poetry
We both had the same music inside
Accompanied by hours of silence.

I promised not to get excited
I promised to be very demure
I promised to keep our spaces
I promised you that you would not see me in love.

But it was impossible, I swear I proposed it
My eyes disobeyed that order
My mind tasted you like you were a pie
Until your soul hung to mine and we shared the hair of an angel.

I only promise to respect your decision
Keep my body several meters away
But please do not ask me not to make you mine
Every time our souls meet.

I was slow, I came to my house and I strongly reproached him
I should have taken you by your face and stamped this kiss that I'm dying to give you.
Oh! Woman and how brave, how could you lose that opportunity to feel that hummingbird flutter on your tongue.

Even if you not see me anymore, it was well worth it
Rub the tip of my tongue with your tongue
And feel that explosion of ecstasy all over my body
That I would not know more about you? What does it matter, if you are mine once more?

That last one that I like, I treasured it in my hands
To then store it inside my perfume
And so, every day, with every drop of it, it will make me feel your lips that taste like honey.






Carmen Pacheco
lasculpasylamuertedelamorii@hotmail.com
@Eroticism10
August 5, 2018


domingo, 11 de marzo de 2018

WHEN MY GUITAR CRYED...



I reach my companion eternal and grabbing her by the waist I start to draw chords that make me remember you in the most intimate of my being.

My imagination flies over the strings of my guitar and your laughter is part of my memories.

I do not understand the reasons for the events. I do not know if it was me in my eternal foolishness or you were in your extreme patience with me.

Today knowing that you are far I want you to know that there is no distance between us and much less forget you

In each stroke that I give to my sonorous friend, I remember the simple way in which to you surrendered to me. In my delirium I can see how you let your robe fall on the floor and with that catlike shape that you had to slide barefoot in every corner of our house was the biggest frenzy I had ever lived. You were a dream come true

I give another higher note and that's when I see you enter our bedroom and my crazy hand produces a fast and delirious arpeggio. In my madness I saw you lay your head on the pillow, while your fingers slid down your breasts, provoking me to madness.

Already my companion rumbles of longing when he sees me enter that bed to assault your virginity like a feverish madman, who with eyes clouded with joy begins to devour every part of that beloved body.

The notes become more serious because from a distance I see how I enter your innocent youth and enjoy your spring juices.

 Each chord that comes out of my guitar is a moan of pleasure that comes from your throat like a song of birds. I can’t stop playing the guitar; I do not want to stop hearing you because it is life itself that I am taking from your source.

Sorry but my eyes have become cloudy and I have to dry them.

I still whip the strings and I can hear a soft accompaniment of violins, when in a moment you open step, giving me the permission to penetrate this unexplored territory. I got to glory. I was the object of the greatest gift a man can receive. You trembled in my arms and your breathing was so agitated that I thought about giving you time or rest but you did not allow it. You felt the strength of a man inside you and that made you bold and bold.

A red thread was seen between your thighs while I left your regions, which were now mine.

 Already tired and with tears rolling down my cheeks, I gave the last chords to my guitar while I remembered that I had definitely been the one to blame for not being in my bed today.

 If by chance this song that I am now writing reaches your ears I am sure that you will not have any doubt of knowing the name of the author since in it you will see reflected my clumsiness of losing you.

 That was the last song with which the guitar accompanied me because when I finished, their strings exploded with pain. Now I will not be able to hold her by her waist to make her sigh with my songs.




Carmen Pacheco
lasculpasylamuertedelamorii@hotmail.com
@ Eroticism10



domingo, 8 de octubre de 2017

SEX ON A TRAIN...





He was an ordinary man. He passed through the crowd, without arousing any feeling. Every day he went from his house to work and vice versa. There was nothing that made him smile. His life had become a string of truncated dreams, monotony was his horizon.

Pablo had married Matilde twenty years ago. From that union were born three loves. They were Paul's eyes but they became Matilda's life. Everything in his house changed. The care was transferred, only and exclusively for the children. On those sleepless nights, Paul would turn and begin to caress his wife knowing that he was ready to make her feel the heat of a man but she would take his hand away and turn asleep. Pablo, many times it was necessary to resort to that old technique to relieve the desire that he had to feel it and thus leave all its source within his bowels. Only that night would not be.

The next morning Matilde said nothing and went into the chores of her house and her children. So the years went by and Paul had devised a way of self-satisfaction. He never stopped trying with Matilde, but there were other reasons why "No". One night they were the headaches, others the menstruation, the child requires my presence and stop counting. It had become an impossible mission. He was very much in love with his wife and for that, he also justified her.

So it was passing time and already Pablo and Matilde were not, like woman and man to make love. Both were aging, he with his yearning and her with the decision to be a housewife and nothing else.

For the world they were the perfect marriage. They were never heard to argue, they were always seen with the family and of course, for society, Paul had never betrayed Matilde. As I said the "Perfect Marriage" Only the procession went inside and without knowing it about to explode.

One afternoon, when Pablo was leaving work, the boss asked him to stay an hour longer to finish a sales analysis that they had to present the next day at the partners meeting. For Pablo it was a routine, there was no reason to run to go home, total would not find anything different from the everyday.

Already in his sixties, despite his age, life had been benevolent with him and kept in very good condition. He liked to run from time to time to de-stress and went every Saturday to the park and there he ran for three hours straight.

That day he left work at nine o'clock at night. He went to the train station and found it quite and alone. It was not unusual for him to be at that hour on the train. There were few people waiting on the train platform. He had brought some of the work that was to be completed by the next day. It was said, I go to read it on the train while I travel and when I get home I make the corrections that I will need.

In the distance the train whistled, announcing its arrival. He opened his doors and was alone. The other passengers embarked in different places of the tren so that he had alone. Better, he told himself, so they do not interrupt me and I work a little

The train came out of the station between metal squeaks and wobble of the wagon where he was traveling.

He looked for his glasses and read the document he was carrying. The distance between her work and her home was about two hour. Immersed in the papers, he did not notice that a young woman in her mid-twenties had slipped into the place where he was. Suddenly hears her voice, and when drops the paper she meets a beautiful young woman, white as snow, her hair in the color of a sunset. His dark eyes were on him as he played with a piece of hair, which made him nervous and not knowing where to look. He decided to go back to what he was doing. Suddenly he felt her hands touching his leg and releasing the leaves he saw and was and saw her kneeling between her knees.  What are you doing, he asks. She just moved her hands between her thighs. Pablo was not able to shout or say something higher than a "No" do not do it, No, do not continue but she did not stop seeing him in the eyes caught the belt and was slowly unbuttoning. Pablo felt that he was covered by an electric force and that his voice came out more and more, but he always repeated "No, do not do it" "Stop please" his voice was not heard. The woman was already lowering the closure. There was no one in that car, apart from them. No one saw what was happening. The train movement added more to the sense of pleasure that was growing in Paul. His eyes could not believe what was happening to him and even what he was feeling. He had always thought, since Matilde did not want to make love to him, in what they had married, he imagined that he was dead of sensations and at that moment his body was a bunch of them.

His hands were thin, with long, hot fingers. With all the skill that has made that move, he took his penis and brought it to his mouth. She wanted to scream but she could not, the sensations rising and falling on her body. Every sucking was an indescribable delight. Pablo squirmed in the seat, , each time his mouth went up and down. So they stayed for a few minutes and as a woman understood what she did she climbed to the hips of Pablo and penetrating herself she rode him like a mad rider. He at last gave himself up to the facts and took her by her buttocks and forced her to feel him deeper and deeper. It was already that man who had once been and responded as only he knew how to do it. They were minutes of delirium and desire. She took his hands and made him touch her beautiful breasts, they were not so big but very firm. Already the madness could not be stopped, he made it several times before reaching his destination.

There were no farewells or words, only each one took his way as if nothing had ever happened, but for Paul they had been the most exquisite hours he had ever felt. The Paul returning home was another man. When he arrived and greeted Matilde, she noticed something strange. He looked at it without knowing what was different, he turned around and said to himself, "These are things of mine," that old man is going to have, but more and more years of age.

Pablo did not eat that night, got into the bathroom and remained there smelling his clothes that still had the smell of that girl. Without understanding, just sniffing and remembering made the blood run faster and made him want to be, again, inside that beautiful woman. He bathed and lay down if he said words to his wife. That night he dreamed of that train car and with hands that caressed him making him to end again that morning and leaving the mark of his sin on the sheets.

Paul's life was no longer the same. She understood that despite her years she could make a woman happy. He tried again with Matilde and changed the routine of looking for it but it was useless, and Matilde, that woman he fell in love with had died, instead a dry and bitter woman reigned. The following week he began to leave work late, with the only hope of meeting, again, with that pretty woman. But it was useless she never saw her again. He became a ghost who wandered the train wagons at night with the only hope of finding the woman with the hot fingers.



Carmen Pacheco
lasculpasylamuertedelamorii@hotmail.com
@ Eroticism10

October 8, 2017

domingo, 17 de septiembre de 2017

THE TIME…






Only the time
With his infinite wisdom
Will make find it you
My life.


Only the soul
Recognize another soul
Only God
It will put us in tune.

No matter what happens the harvest
No matter that I have not kissed him
My hands almost fly towards you
But I understand that the moment has not come.

If my skin wrinkles
And her hair itcovere like snow
And we would not have lived our moment
Keep in mind, that neither time
In His Eternal Wisdom
Will make forget you, my life






Carmen Pacheco
lasculpasylamuertedelamorii@hotmail.com
@ Eroticism10
September 17, 2017
Author photo: Maryna Fatseyeva

jueves, 3 de agosto de 2017

LA DISTANCIA ENTRE DOS ALMAS...






Ella frágil y asustada
Él audaz y temeroso
Ambos se entregan al dulce sueño del amor
Ella ingenua y pudorosa
Él ávido y decidido.


El juego ha empezado, la locura se hace eco de sus anhelos
Dos seres en la distancia se ansían
Y sin saberlo comienzan la danza más excitante jamás interpretada
Sus brazos se entrelazan, sus lenguas se acuchillan
Su saliva emerge cual lluvia sanadora
Que lubrica sus gargantas calladas por el amor.


A lo lejos un gato maúlla una melodía sensual
Su ronroneo hace que su compañera salga al encuentro
Él la toma, con sus dientes afilados, por la nuca
Ella emite un grito ahogado de placer.


Sus manos vuelan cual murciélagos en la noche
Sólo el radar de sus deseos les permite sentir sus sexos
Él se yergue sobre su espalda
Ella se arquea bajo sus caderas.


Hay una distancia que los separa
Son muchas las ganas de sentir la piel
A lo lejos un reloj da sus doce campanadas
Les recuerda que el tiempo ha pasado y no hay nada más qué hacer.


Ella frágil y asustada
Él audaz y temeroso
Ambos con un solo deseo en el alma
Pero con la certeza más triste de lo que no puede ser.







Carmen Pacheco
@Erotismo10
3 de agosto del 2017




miércoles, 2 de agosto de 2017

QUÉDATE CON TUS BESOS, CARICIAS Y ESPACIO...





Me pediste espacio y te lo di.

Sugeriste distancia y la otorgué.

Represaste los besos y lo entendí.

Las caricias volaron y lo pensé.


Hoy tengo mi espacio para ser.

La distancia la disfruto a mi antojo.

Los besos, estoy segura que los probaré en otra boca.

Tus caricias despertaron células que no sabía de su existencia.

Pero que ahora revolotean, cual mariposas sedientas.

Así que tu espacio, distancia, besos y caricias.

Pueden seguir escondidos en tu desván.

Yo ya no los quiero más…








Carmen Pacheco
@Erotismo10
2 de agosto de 2017








sábado, 15 de julio de 2017

UNA MAÑANA ERÓTICA EN LA VIDA DE CRISTINA....








Era un día como otro cualquiera. Cristina había decidido quedarse en casa para descansar de esos días de trabajo que la extenuaban hasta debilitarse. Su familia aprovechó el día de asueto para ir a la montaña, donde se deleitarían con un picnic, que llevaban tiempo planificando.

Ella era Secretaria en un bufete de abogados, su trabajo consistía en transcribir todo lo que se decía en los juicios. Siempre permanecía sentada y delante de una máquina, por lo que su cuerpo se entumecía por estar tanto tiempo en una sola posición.

Ese día había decidido no salir con la familia y  tampoco con sus amigas, lo dedicaría a dormir y descansar en su cama por un largo rato.

Ya eran como las nueve de la mañana, cuando algo la despertó. Era una sensación de calor muy placentera en su sexo y abriendo lo ojos se dio cuenta que un rayo de sol la abrazaba. Lo primero que pensó fue arrimarse o cerrar mejor las cortinas pero era una sensación tan caliente que prefirió seguir bajo ese rayo afrodisíaco.

Al ver que el ardor iba en aumento procedió a quitarse los pantaloncitos que llevaba y de esa forma el rayo incidía directamente en su clítoris. ¡Fue lo máximo! Comenzó a contorsionarse e iban aumentando sus ganas de tener un orgasmo, por lo que se levantó a buscar un vibrador, que meses atrás lo había  comprado junto a sus amigas, por eso de si le daban ganas y estaba sola.

Humedeciéndose la vagina y dejando que el sol siguiera su trabajo, procedió a encender el aparato. Los masajes que se daba hicieron que su apetito aumentara al cien por ciento. Ya era una loca que se acariciaba por todos lados y se ayudaba con los dedos rozando su clítoris. El calor que la abrazaba la hacía querer más y más. En una de esas no pudo aguantar y tuvo el orgasmo más exquisito que jamás hubiese tenido y luego vino otro y otro. Ya satisfecha y viendo que sus sentidos regresaban empezó hacerse una pregunta; ¿Por qué Francisco no me hace tener este tipo de orgasmo? ¿Por qué no se preocupa por conseguir el sitio donde exploto de placer? ¿Por qué tengo que recurrir a mi amigo el vibra para llegar a la gloria? Y lo peor es que si le comento algo, de una me dice que “Él sabe muy bien cómo se hacen las cosas” y se vuelve el cuento de nunca acabar, que si lo piensas bien podríamos decir que es el significado de “Frigidez” pero todas sabemos que no hay mujer frígida, sino mal atendida.

Hoy por lo pronto Cristina está satisfecha y posiblemente Francisco quede en el pasado ya que ella necesita a un hombre que quiera saber cómo, dónde y qué la hace llegar al cielo y si el amigo “El Vibra” aparece podría ser para satisfacerlos a los dos al mismo tiempo.



Carmen Pacheco
lasculpasylamuertedelamorii@hotmail.com
@Erotismo10
Instagram: lasculpasylamuerteamor69






I die for a kiss. A single kiss...






I die for a kiss
Of those who know glory
Those, that at the moment
They make you lose your memory.

I die for a kiss
For a kiss from you
The one who plucking my conscience
And it makes me travel through unknown worlds.

When was my last kiss?
Many moons have passed
Too many sighs have filled the bridge
The flapping of your lips is imperceptible.

About I've been committing a crime
My lips have wanted to enchant your mouth
Your breath I want it enveloping
And your saliva dampening my desires.

I want to feel your morbid tongue
In the search for my repressed cravings
He's so greedy, he doesn't think anything else
Just live on.





Carmen Pacheco
Lasculpasylamuertedelamorii@hotmail.com
@ erotismo10
Instagram: lasculpasylamuerteamor69