Long Panties Poems

Long Panties Poems. Below are the most popular long Panties by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Panties poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member A Delicious Deep Dish

.           

                      In her panties
                        pardon me
                       (i did mean
                          pantry)
                 her finger pointed to
                        the cherry 
 
             Mine all suddenly altered 
                         imbued
                     praying to be
                  the benefactor of
                        that fruit
             'mongst the dimness of 
                 that pantry's light  

           After sum sweet sibilate'n
          her point was to the flower
                    i meant flour
                       yes i did

                            ,)


Premium Member We Met To Write, Then We Met

In slow dance, whispering conversation
Musics allowing bodily observations
Excited minds becoming so enticed
Firmness appears, pert as if iced

To her shoulders I lay a kiss, now more
Her naturally tanned skin, I so adore
Clothing I now loosen, slowly falls
Hands clasping tighter, only sighs call

In wandering roam, undulations I touch
Curvaceous boundaries, allowed, I clutch
Gentle caress I, glossed lips blessed
Her hands take mine, firmly caressed

She turns whispering, I to kiss her nape
Her naturally tanned skin, near naked drape
Down her spine I kiss and lick, hands gripped
Summer dress, her panties, tenderly slip

Clothed I am, into my arms she 
Carried to silken sheets, where we're to be
I lay her down, on a bed of scented roses
Pinked and pert she is, arched, heavens close

Astride she I sit, shirt ripped, buttons ping
My head to her breasts, suckling, she sings
Hands in wanting more, naked to bare are we
Entwined we are, like Ivy caresses the tree

Carnal cave desired, excites the man in me
Richly pinked scented, invited I am thee
Nails entice my urge, me into she feels me
Her moistness welcomes, internally I be

Ferocious kisses amidst writhing souls
Rhythmic thrusting hips, grinding goals
Synergistic together, freely releases we
Lusted, sweated join, exhausted decree




.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Final Song

The Priest talked of your tragic passing
I was unzipping your dress, watching it gracefully fall to the floor
You would be sorely missed
The back of your neck was warm and your nipples came alive
We sang a song where angels long
Your fingers caressed inside and the taste was inviting
Your husband spoke of his love and the pain he felt
I was kissing the bow on your panties, gently teasing them down
The final song, abide with me, abide with me
The teasing became unbearable as you pulled my hair, forcing my tongue inside you
The curtain closed for the final time as tears subside
We exploded and you laughed and cried
The leaving pleasantries were awkward, sorry for our loss maybe misconstrued
You got dressed for the final time, leaving a goodbye gift
I shed a tear outside, your gift drying my eyes
The congregation left to drink to times gone by
Some looked right through me
Some just never knew why…
© Paul Bell  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Brit Speak

You call it a diaper – I call it a nappy
Whatever the name the result’s often crappy!

I call it a handbag; you call it a purse
But if it got stolen I’m sure that we’d curse

You call it jelly and we call it jam
I like it on toast whenever I can

To me buns are something tasty to eat
For you it is buttocks you place on a seat

We call it petrol you folks call it gas
I thought gas was something you pass from your ‘ass’

I call them knickers and you call them panties
I just hope they are sexy and not like my aunties

I hope that this poem in ‘Brit speak’ has been fun
Now when I read poems I can understand every one
 
3rd June 2015
Form: Couplet

Four Four Right

The I trois1:01 men-nuts long
The first time they s collaborate
Bunch used both electric and
traditional instruments in a fusion
Of we. The origin of togetherness.
Lying to one group to increase the
Interest of another. Making specticails
Of fools, while patting the back and ass
Of the other. When the neglected bunch
Sought redemption, they called to familiar things, familiar situations they joined together. Without guidance men struggle. With those who have been neglected in aeomans compatibility they used stories of more attractive people
Beyond the muck and dirt, who speaks kinder? When she needs me, what until then. Yes says enough. Tomorrows lover, yesterday's man. RowOne Seat One!, The Lute, The Oboe,and the Chello
. Woman Drawers, her panties! The Next Morning
 Sumthangs Specail. Grungy Groove. Ah Ooh: ah ooh!
These were the titled for bassy stringed marinaded meatez. The right thang at the right time. Music for lovers!
Form: Ballad


88 Plus Words

Gentleman locks the door I hear
Click
The sound of it echoes in my ear
It’s time to begin, my interview…

”...come into site of me…”

A voice in the darkness calls
Silence becomes the walls and
He motions my move with a hand
Enticing sound of a leather band

”...panties on the desk…” he says next.

Sir, my firm nipples confess,
I carry not these unruly mess of
Misguided obstructions
In the codes of my dress.

Allow me please another course
To demonstrate a skill of choice…
I want, to come and work for you
Just a matter of time ‘til you’ll want me too
Execute the tasks of this interview…

A little cream in your latte ’s due, I notice.

.

Darkly heals of pointed action
Saunter soft to a hard attraction
... it was said, to put the whips on
Chest over desk in a slight horizon
Spread like an eagle and facing the Sun
Inspired to oblige… is a team player, Bond.

Prying eyes on the intercom
Taking notes and recording songs
Nothing isn’t noticed, her eyes a grin
Lifting skirt and exposing skin
Fabric of her blouse so very thin
Refreshing foam against the rim
In a cup of desire filled to the brim…

”...do you type…” he asked again

Like a wild fire replies the Wind
88 plus words in the whisper of a mind.
© Izzy Gumbo  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Premium Member Dirty Tricks

Hey you! 
Yeah, you. 
Know what I plan to do?  
I’ll spread Vaseline all over your windshield 
And Krazy Glue your wipers in place.  
I’ll insert sewing needles, point up, 
Into your driver’s seat cushion.   
I’ll put dog poop in your air vents 
And a dead fish in the bottom of your glove box.  
I'll write your cell phone number and email address 
On restroom walls at truck stops and sleazy taverns.  
I’ll scatter thumbtacks on the shag carpet 
On your side of the bed and spit curses into your pillow case.  
I’ll fill your shoes with menthol shaving gel.  
I’ll smear anchovy paste on the crotch of all of your panties 
and put them neatly back in your drawer.  
I’ll mix pubic hairs in with your tuna salad, 
Dissolve laxatives and sleeping pills in your split pea soup, 
Replace your mouthwash with Windex, 
Scratch my anus with your toothbrush, 
Piss in your bottle of scotch and then...  
And then I’ll start to get nasty.  
Trust me. 
I’m just getting warmed up.  
Have another scotch.

Premium Member One Liner Medley

While you waited, he slipped comfortably into her panties.

Sometimes less is not more, it's just short of enough.

Rather than saving for a rainy day you should buy an umbrella today.

If you are reaching for the stars you can be pretty sure you're standing outside.

He felt a bit irritated when he had to jump for Joy!

He was on the highway to hell, fortunate for him his motorcycle broke down.

She wanted one on one time, sadly she had someone else in mind.

Of all your personalities I like this one the best!

Every time I make a judgement about you, I learn something about myself.

If you want to be seen, sometimes you need to stand by yourself.

Speaking louder does not make you right!

When you walk with your head in the clouds you're more likely to trip.

Original sin has become somewhat unoriginal!

I want to one day be as smart as he thinks he is.

Everything old is still old even if the new stuff looks old.

You can take that to the bank but it will cost you!

If a coward dies a hundred deaths, he should be extremely well prepared.

The poor cat got ripped off, he only had one life.

The man who talks the least has the best hearing.

Never ever underestimate the power of your own stupidity.

Not all who appear friendly are friends.

The one who loses brings another much joy.
Form:

Of Face and Phases

People change.
The beggars randomly scorn the commoners
When refused a beg,
And solemnly retreat to their
Dejected lives, waiting for another expedition..
The obnoxious fact that 
Men control their fates,
And women control their mates,
All are portentous assumptions 
To relieve the baffled human soul
From another.

We wish there were trees 
Huge enough to shadow over our sins,
Then perhaps, a certain recluse 
Cant be blamed,
Unless found detained to a bark.
When friends are supposed to be friends
And enemies the same,
There is no difference:
As the setting sun puts out the light of the world
Technology blooms, like a goblin
We seem to be lost in neon lights,
Smoke, drugs, parties....panties
That is the rarity itself.
The odd mother unable to feed her children,
The kittens dying under the shade
The grandmas and grandpas living like a ghost, alone, for days

The sun comes up again,
Feeling bright and bringing a 'new day'.
Nothing changes
The face, maybe, not the phases.
© Iman Roy  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Premium Member Screamed Free Five Words

The breaking seemed to happen so easily.
Childish giggles, a new pretty dress, seemingly innocent tickling games!
Then came "This will be our little secret" accompanied by zipper sounds
Licking lollipops, "Special" alone times...
Darkness pulling at her panties, that strange wetness.
Her shattered mind broken into segments.
Inner her went to distant places, attempting to save small bits of herself:
She couldn't separate the pleasure from the guilt.
That ironic cruelty of her body responding to his touch.
The wanting to be loved, mixed with that icky feeling!

She had thought him to be her light.
Loving him for paying attention to her.
He made her smile, listening to every word she said.
Then he made her his slave, his object of desire.
Told her "no one else will love you!" "You are a dirty dirty girl!"

Inexplicably as she got older his attention waned
She wondered what was wrong with her
Until one day  he bought her little sister a pretty pink dress
She recognized that innocent giggle, that favourite uncle smile
Somehow she gathered up her shattered and screamed her sister free
For she knew, no little girl should ever again be a slave to his darkness
Beneath her pain she found their path to freedom
Because she knew that breaking is oh so easy.


BROKEN People

Big GIRLS Do Cry

Yellow Shoes in the DARKNESS

SLAVE

Beneath the SHATTERED


For Timothy's five word challenge. 

Written June 1st 2016

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