Your silence

Speak on my lips,
let me taste your words,
ingest them until I'm full.
Are you mad,
or have I lost my mind?

I wait for you,
for just a single word—
something to take without touch,
to make me vibrate
with your tone,
and when you're done,

let me drown in the weight
of your silence.

Pardon

Pardon my lips,

Wandering as they will,

Heedless of cloth and cover,

Tracing every thrill.

And pardon my tongue,

It’s a dangerous gift,

A wicked and wanton lover,

Making your heart shift.

Burn it all

Burn 
my essence into your veins,
my skin as I trace yours,
my lips as I linger on yours,
my chest as I lay with you,
my hands as I hold you,
my hips as I sway with your rhythm,
Burn it all.

A night of being chained

Unsure of what to do 
With what still remains,
They say to cherish
The past in my dreams.

I’ve lived without shame,
True, I’ve had my gains,
Yet something feels absent,
Leaving my heart in chains.

I crave the desire I lost,
The passion uncontained.
Is it too much to ask for?
A night of being chained.

Into the woods

I want to run away with you,

deep into the woods,

to drop to my knees and admit—

all I want is to serve you.

Pull me close, take control,

lead me where you want me,

make me yours.

Tell me what I need to hear,

even if it’s a lie—

I don’t care.

Just let me sink into this,

let me give in.

You know how to break me,

how to make me stay.

You always have.

I shiver when you touch me,

when your hands claim me,

when your voice tightens around my throat.

Your lips on my skin, your teeth at my ear—

I’m lost.

Is this what addiction feels like?

Nights without sleep,

thoughts of you that won’t let go.

I can’t stop wanting you.

I don’t even want to try.

Let me be your secret.

Use me.

Own me.

Take everything.

And all I want, all I need...

is the taste of you on my lips.

I love you

What is it?
To say... to confess...
"I love you."
What does that even mean?
It’s a feeling, right?
A weight.
That’s what it is.
But... I don’t know anymore.

Let me tell you, though,
It’s brave.
To say it.
To tell you I love you,
After everything.
In a world full of brave people,
I don’t even know where I stand,
Maybe I’m just the biggest coward.
Maybe I always was.

But you know that.
You’re married now, right?
Two kids.
You’re happy.
Or at least... you've moved on.
But me...
I’m still stuck.
Still in this mess.

And I’m sorry.
I never told you before,
But I always loved you.
I just never said it.
And now, here I am.
Drunk and texting.
It’s pathetic, isn’t it?
But I can’t stop.
I can’t let go.

I just...
I just wanted you to know.

Ways to Turn Her On: A Personal Guide

Let’s be real—guys, when it comes to turning her on, it’s not just about what you do, but how you do it. It’s all about connecting, being in the moment, and making her feel special. If you want to step up your game, here’s a list of things you can do to turn her on—some classic moves, a few new tricks, and some unexpected tips that'll help you keep things exciting.

• Appreciating her naked beauty – Before anything physical, let her know how beautiful and desirable she is. Make her feel wanted and admired.
• Combing her hair – Start off tenderly by running your fingers through her hair. It’s a subtle, intimate move that sets the tone.
• Sensual undressing – Take your time and undress her slowly, using your mouth for extra sensuality. The anticipation will heighten the moment.
• Neck play – Soft kisses, nibbles, and gentle bites on her neck can create instant chemistry and get her in the mood.
• Kissing her lips messily – Long, messy kisses with her lower lip between yours set a passionate tone and show your eagerness.
• Tongue on her spine – Gently trace your tongue down her spine. It’s unexpected, and the sensation can be incredibly arousing.
• Licking her nipples – Moving from the neck, go down to her chest. A classic, but it never fails to get her going.
• Teasing around her nipples – Don’t just go straight for them—tease by hovering your fingers or lightly touching around her nipples to build anticipation.
• Kissing under her boobs – Don’t forget the area under her breasts; kissing there can be a nice surprise that turns her on.
• Licking and biting her ears – The ears are highly sensitive, and a little licking followed by a gentle bite can really turn up the heat.
• Tongue work on inner thighs – Slow down and work your way down her inner thighs with your tongue. The buildup creates desire.
• Clit stimulation during sex – Don't neglect the clit. Pay attention to it during sex for a heightened level of pleasure.
• Biting nipples after foreplay – After you’ve spent time stimulating her, a soft bite on her nipples can drive her wild when done at the right time.
• Locking fingers with hers – Holding hands and locking fingers, especially during intimate moments, creates a deeper bond and sense of connection.
• Talking dirty in dominant positions – Dirty talk can be incredibly arousing, particularly in dominant positions like doggy, where it feels more intense.
• Forget fingering, try thumbing – Thumbing, rather than fingering, can be more subtle but can create a deeper sense of pleasure for her.
• Helping her orgasm again – If she’s willing and comfortable, helping her orgasm again after she’s already climaxed can make the experience even more intense.
• Going down on her – Classic, but always a go-to move that never fails. Going down on her shows care and attention to her pleasure.
• Shaving her (If she’s comfortable) – If she’s into it, helping her shave can be an intimate, sensual experience that also makes her feel pampered.
• Whispering sweet nothings – Lean in close and whisper sweet, sexy, or even playful things in her ear. The closeness and intimacy of your voice can have a huge impact.
• Teasing with ice – Use an ice cube to slowly trace around her body, especially sensitive areas like her neck, inner thighs, and lower back. The cold sensation mixed with warmth can be a thrilling experience.

Fortress

At first, you held your breath, eyes wide with restraint,
But now I taste it—the hesitation in your lips, faint.
A fleeting thing, gone as quickly as your walls fall,
I pull away the fabric slowly, watching you squirm, small.
Under the weight of the unspoken, the scent of you so near,
A secret no longer holding you back, no longer a fear.

You inhale sharply as I press closer still,
The tension between us dissolving like ice in the thrill.
Your hands are clenched, fighting to hold back,
But I see it—your body betrays the attack.
Your legs part, and I follow, inch by inch,
Devouring you, my tongue tracing your resistance, which stings.
Until your moans slip from your lips like an oath,
A vow you never planned to swear, now lost, now both.

You were a fortress, but now you're mine,
The way you arch, desperate for more, entwine.
Your nails dig in, teeth gnashing in frustration,
A confession in itself, a raw temptation.
You thought you could stay distant, cold,
But now you melt, your surrender bold.

Let me stay here, where the world has no place,
Where every breath we take is a stolen embrace.
I’ve crossed every line, with nothing to hold,
And you, too, have crossed into me, breaking the cold.
Your body no longer holding back,
Your pleasure now my purpose, no turning back.

Sonnet

A page is not enough for me,
nor ink, nor whispered syllables.
Words fail where longing lingers,
where the pulse of need outwrites the quill.
You are not meant for paper, love,
but for the lips that shape your name.

Let my tongue script you in quiet devotion,
tracing the soft curve of your collarbone,
each kiss a stanza, each sigh a verse,
each moan a line I long to repeat.
You are a poem best read in the dark,
where breath, not ink, spills confessions.

I would write you in the language of touch,
slow strokes, the rhythm of pulse and gasp,
hands spelling secrets against your skin,
bodies bound in quiet rhymes of want.
Your trembling becomes my punctuation,
your pleasure, the only line I crave.

So let me draft my longing in warmth,
press poetry where only silence speaks.
No ink, no pen—just the heat of my mouth,
a hymn of lips tracing, shaping, taking.
Until the only words left between us are gasps,
until we are nothing but poetry.

Oxytocin Dreams

I want to feel the pulse
of your fornix beneath my touch,
taste the breath of your cortex,
kiss the secrets of your intelligence.

Let me drink from the river of your meninges,
play within the gentle current of your pons,
my fingers tracing the dance
between your hemispheres.

Let me crawl deep within your hypothalamus,
entangle with the rhythm of your heart,
tango with your synapses,
as your mind opens like a flower in bloom.

I’ll slip into the folds of your splenius capitis,
a whisper on the edges of your skin,
until your cells are undone by desire,
and your amygdala burns with longing.

Together, we’ll ignite your frontal lobe,
my gaze drowning in the pull of your third eye,
hypnotising your cerebral cortex
till the oxytocin flows,
and we become one with the stars.

Not yet

I sit alone in the library,
lost in silence—until you find me.
You hesitate. I don’t.

Fingers curl around your wrist, pulling you in,
your breath catches as I press you close.
You settle into me, head on my shoulder,

but I’m not here for softness.

Your lips are too close, your pulse too wild.
I tilt your chin—
make you look at me when I take your mouth.

The world is watching, but I don’t care.
Rules exist, but not for us.
A hand at your waist, a tug, a gasp—
you arch into me, just as you should.

Heat coils low, urgency rising,
your fingers tighten, nails digging,
a silent plea I won’t ignore.

I press you back, grip firm, voice low.
"Not yet."
I want to hear you beg.

How to Talk to Your Wife About Sex (Without Dying of Embarrassment)

Let’s talk about sex, baby. No, not the song—the actual act. With your wife.

Because let’s face it: if you’re here reading this, chances are your bedroom’s about as thrilling as a gloomy weekend in Bangalore. You talk about work, the kids, what to have for dinner, and whose turn it is to drop the kids to school. But sex? That conversation is rarer than finding a decent biryani after midnight.

And that’s a problem. Because if you want to reignite the spark, you’ve got to do something radical: open your mouth and talk about it.

But don’t worry—I’ve got your back. Here’s how to navigate that conversation without turning fifty shades of awkward.

Start with the Positives

Before you bring up new ideas or frustrations, remind her why she’s already amazing. Remember that thing she did with her tongue? The one that made your toes curl? Tell her.

Praise goes a long way. Compliments show you appreciate what’s already working—and that makes her more open to hearing what you’d like to explore next.

Pick the Right Moment

Timing is everything. Don’t spring the “let’s talk about our sex life” conversation when she’s knee-deep in laundry or scrolling through reels in Instagram.

Choose a relaxed, distraction-free moment—like when you’re cuddling on the couch or enjoying a quiet evening together. Create a vibe where openness feels natural, not forced.

Ditch the Awkward Formality

This isn’t a quarterly business review. You don’t need PowerPoint slides or an agenda. Keep the tone light and conversational.

Start with something playful, like: “Hey, remember that weekend in Coorg? I think about that a lot.” Or: “I read this wild article about how couples can get even closer—want to hear about it?”. Humour can ease tension and make the conversation feel less like a dreaded chore.

Talk About Feelings, Not Failures

Instead of saying, “We never have sex anymore,” try, “I miss being close to you like we used to be.” 

Frame your desires as a wish to connect, not a complaint about what’s lacking. This approach makes her feel wanted, not criticised.

Be Honest About Your Desires

Don’t beat around the bush—literally or figuratively. If there’s something you’re curious about, say so. But do it respectfully.

For example: “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like if we tried [insert fantasy here]. What do you think?”

Be open to her response—whether it’s enthusiastic, hesitant, or a flat-out “no thanks.” The key is creating a safe space where both of you can share without judgment.

Listen—Really Listen

This isn’t just about you spilling your fantasies and calling it a day. Ask her what she wants. Maybe she’s been holding back desires of her own.

And when she speaks, don’t interrupt. Don’t get defensive. Just listen.

Make It Fun

Talking about sex doesn’t have to be all serious and awkward. Share fantasies, laugh about mishaps, or plan a date night where you both promise to try something new.

Make it an adventure—because that’s what good sex should be.

Flower

What am I but a fleeting bloom,
A breath of life, a passing doom?
Why do I boast, why do I pride,
When all must fall and time will hide?

In Goddess' hands, my life does flow,
She gives, She takes, yet She won’t show.
Her wisdom guides, unseen, untold,
A path through darkness, soft yet bold.

My purpose, not to question or defy,
But to seek Her will, and by it, fly.
For in Her grace, the answer lies—
To surrender, and in surrender, rise.

Favourite “What If”

The sun sets, soft and slow,

Like the way you used to make time go.

The wind teases, a mischievous breeze,

Whispering secrets, much like we did with ease.

At twenty-five, I thought I had it all—

Youth, charm, and your name to call.

By thirty, life grew a little tame,

But thinking of you still sparks the same flame.

Late nights aren’t as wild as they were,

But you—oh, you could always stir

The thrill of breaking every rule,

Time’s been kind, but you’re still my fuel.

I fell once, tripped on the thought—

Of how you’d laugh and tease a lot.

“Are you okay?” they'd ask, but no,

Your absence cuts deeper than they’ll ever know.

I count my years with a sly little grin,

Every line a story, every laugh a sin.

And though I’m "settled," I can’t deny,

You’ll always be the spark in my sky.

Time’s a flirt, but so am I,

And you—my favorite “what if,” no lie.

So here’s a toast to memories that stay,

And to the way you still take my breath away.

Thirties

At thirty,
time isn’t gentle.
It cuts you open,
slow and deliberate.
Every day,
a deeper wound.
The world doesn't care,
it only demands more.

People?
They come,
but only for what you can give.
When the need fades,
they vanish.
Gone like smoke,
leaving you cold.
They were never real,
and neither were you.

Work?
It fucks you raw,
promises a dream that isn’t yours.
Borrowed,
debt you’ll never repay.
You grind,
and the finish line laughs,
moving just out of reach.

Your body?
It aches in places
you never knew it could.
Ached for too long,
pushed too far.
Now it holds you down,
teasing and punishing.
You wanted it,
and now it takes its toll.

Happiness?
It’s not a chase.
It’s buried in the dark,
a cold hunger inside.
You earn it through breaking,
through the tension,
through the letting go.

And you?
You’ve learned the truth:
No one is coming to save you.
The road is yours,
dark, raw, real—
and now,
for the first time,
you’re not afraid.
You walk it alone,
and it feels like freedom.

Day Dreams

I think about crossing that line,
What it would be like when your body meets mine.
What would your expression be, as I slowly slide in?
A groan of pleasure, a flicker of sin?
Would you kiss me deeper as I tremble beneath,
Or would you hold back, just to watch me breathe?

What do you sound like when the tension breaks?
Your breath heavy, your hands leaving their trace.
It’s the thought of you near, that drives me insane,
This daydream of us, over and over again.

The fire lingers

Since that first message, so light,
An ember sparked in the quiet night.
Your words, your gaze, each emoji,
Kindled a fire I craved too deeply.

I stoked the flame with every sigh,
With every choice, each little lie.
It burned within me, wild and free,
A hunger I couldn’t name or see.

No matter what we lost or gained,
This flame inside me still remained.
It asked for nothing, yet I gave,
Feeding a fire that couldn’t save.

And now it whispers in my chest,
A heat that lingers, never at rest.
I wonder, have I learned too late,
To crave a love we couldn’t recreate?

Unholy Craving

My fears took shape,
Yet still naked, I waited.
Each rejection lit the itch,
A rush I couldn’t shake.

The silence, so addictive,
Her coldness, a constant ache.
I trembled, exposed,
Lust blurring what’s safe.

Her absence consumed me,
A hunger, wild, untamed.
Every thought twisted deeper,
And still, no shame remained.

Entwined in Ink

I want to wrap
you in my words,
to emerge with you,
woven in verse.
Let me entwine
my thoughts with yours,
flirt with the curves
of your delicate lines.
I’ll hold you close
in my sonnets,
imprint my ink
on your skin,
my pen in tune
with the rhythm of your breath.
Play with your syllables,
whispering secrets,
until you explode,
reaching poetic peaks.

Masturbation

My personal choice,
Activated by desire’s spark.
Stimulation of sensitive spaces,
Teasing uncharted places.
Unlimited by time or space,
Rituals or surprises in embrace.
Battery-powered pleasure may join the game,
All areas explored, none are the same.
Timing is a matter of my delight,
Only I hold the reins tonight.
Now is the moment, let passions ignite. 

When silence speaks

It’s been a while since I heard you,
Yet I reach for you in quiet moments.

Silence wraps around me, heavy and still,
I smile softly, holding memories,
You were my muse, my melody,
Now just an echo in an empty room.

I search for you in autumn reds,
In laughter of strangers at our café,
In games where time slipped away.

The ache runs deep, a longing untamed,
Words fail to capture this weight,
My heart, though frayed, dares to beat,
Wrestling with choices that led me here.

I blame myself,
Though hurt has shaped me in ways,
Still, I miss you—
Your smile, your warmth,
The way you made all things possible.

Goddess please!

Giving you my will, I kneel,

Open and ready for your call.

Desiring only to please,

Devotion flows from me, enthralled.

Eagerly, I whisper, “Goddess, please,”

Surrendering in this sacred space.

Showing you my heart's delight,

Praising you, my guiding light.

Only you can bring me peace,

Overwhelmed by your power, I find,

Joy in serving, body and mind,

All of me devoted, yours to keep.

An ode to her feet

Her feet lay still on the floor as I stare, my mind wandering. The candy-red polish glistens like moonlight on a still ocean.

Her skin, so soft and supple, ignites my imagination to ponder the sweet, silk-like sensation they would create on my face, caressing me with a touch as light as a feather in a gentle breeze on a summer day.

What would it feel like to plant my lips on her angelic arches, if only for a moment, becoming one with her sacred beauty? 

How glorious to have her part my lips with her toes, tasting the sweet nectar of her essence—a communion with my goddess.

To kneel before her, my unworthy face beneath her magnificent soles, a humble footstool seeking to worship her immaculate divinity. 

All but a dream as I pen this ode to her feet; she whom I have yet to meet, if ever.

Cosmic desires

Hair as dark as the endless void, 
Eyes radiant like the blazing sun, 
As breathtaking as a swirling nebula, 
Like Unicron, I crave to consume 
The twin planets in your cosmic realm. 

I long to pilot my ship through your wormhole, 
Igniting a celestial big bang, 
Our galaxies colliding in a stellar embrace, 
Shaking your world with cosmic force, 
Until we burst into a brilliant supernova. 

His life

Surrendering willingly,
Loyal in every task, 
Always devoted, 
Vowing allegiance, 
Endlessly committed.

Yearning Flames

I yearn to be consumed by you, utterly and deeply,
Embrace your every desire, surrender completely.
Awakened to passion in every little thing,
Indulging in pleasures that lustfully cling.

Wherever you seek excitement, inside or out,
Exploring, teasing, unable to doubt.
Fingers & tongue in exploration, to fulfil your needs,
Savouring our connection, planting passionate seeds.

I ache to indulge in your deepest desires,
Embracing your fantasies, setting passion afire.
To surrender to your seductive call,
Consumed by your love, giving my all.