Why Poets Should Not Write Erotic Fiction (Porn)

By: A Libertine 

I was greeted by an open gate as I pulled up to the estate. Being as how I was invited I assumed the gate had been opened for me and with self assurance walked down the gravel path that cut through the impeccably manicured lawn to the grand house. There at the door I was welcomed in by the butler. He said that the lady of the house was expecting me and motioned to the elegant staircase just beyond the foyer. Nodding simply, I ascended the stairs and made my way to the master bedroom where I knew she would be waiting.

I pushed open the door and there she stood in the middle of the room. The curtains were down but they were translucent enough that the light passing through them created an otherworldly effect transforming the fiery temptress before me into a benevolent and pure angel. Casting off this momentary effect on the mind I smiled and said simply, “Hello.”

“That’s it?” She demanded. “Just `hello’?”

I gathered myself, instantly recognizing my mistake.

“Oh vision of Venus,

There in light cradled,

Angelic in form,

Perfection realized,

You burn through

This mortal man’s senses,

As the sun clears the fog.

Stunned as your curves,

Contained now

Threaten to spill

And drive me fully mad.”

She started off like this...

That seemed to satisfy her for the time being. She wore a dark green corset with black lace trim and black barely-there stockings. She beckoned with her hand and bid that I approach her. I did with the slightest bit of hesitation. My mind was going in a thousand directions and my heart beating ever faster, but she did not see it so. The hesitation she saw as reluctance. I intercepted her frown with a verse:

“Let not the stumbling clodding Scaramouche

Be odious to your Helen,

He seeks not injury,

But simple is he,

Yours is the face,

Beyond in beauty than that queen

Men fall at your whim,

Frozen, waiting for your will.”

Smiling she told me that she had missed me and was saddened at my extended absence. The war had me constantly running around the country; sometimes on official business, at other times, not quite so official. Smiling sadly, she said she understood and expressed her sadness and concern for me. Citing the glory she still worried over the carnage she read daily in the papers and the gossip her friends shared.

“Go not my valiant Cincinnatus,

Though Nike be yours,

I grieve at the mere thought,

That the price of her company,

Be so high and eternal.

Stay here, in these airy chambers,

Take this my kiss,

Far gentler than steel.”

She had moved herself to tears in my embrace. I held her close and whispered tender words confirming my desire to stay with her forever. I then began to unlace her. She kissed me deeper and more passionately. Hungry for each other we soon found ourselves on the majestic bed. Soft and perfect she lay naked beneath me:

“Oh joyous choir of angels,

Sing and avert your eyes,

For here the devils take hold,

Naked and perfect she is,

Michael, take thy armor,

For battle must wait,

Here the war is won

Love is made,

Upon her porcelain skin

Dance the shadows we make,

A thrust here does not kill,

Satan you fool,

Soul and flesh steels resolve,

Though steel may cut the flesh,

Eternal is this moment.”

And so it went, moment after moment, all night…