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Introduction:

Derived from the Italian word sonetto, meaning “a little sound or song," an English sonnet is traditionally a one-stanza, 14-line poem in iambic pentameter.

Like Aretino, I think the sonnet form is ideal for smut. You can read these individually or in series
1.

I said hello on Tuesday, in a cafe.

On Thursday our first date, a single kiss.

Took her to a garden the next day—

We made out like teenagers, drunk on bliss.

It's Sunday morning now, and what a sight!

Clothes strewn about, and underneath the cover

Of my own bed, bathed in morning light,

My smiling, sleeping, joyful, naked lover.

My fingers smell of her soft intimate places.

My semen's in her now, warmed in her flesh.

My muscles ache from passionate embraces.

And still she looks so clean and soft and fresh!

The lesson of this simply perfect week:

The sweetest-looking girl can be a freak!

~

2.

"Pin my arms back tight above my head

So that I'm helpless underneath your strength

Crushed between your body and the bed

And stab me to the root with all your length.

Squeeze me, bite my nipples, and devour

My neck and ear in kisses hot as brands.

My body and soul are yours for the coming hour,

A savage sacrifice to your cock's demands.

I want your sweat and strength and hungry pride.

Boredom's a disease, and lust the antidote.

So fuck me, crush me, bury yourself inside

And pound my cunt till you're coming out my throat!

And as I moan and thrash round your seed's pouring,

Let no one say that missionary's boring."

~

3.

I love to watch my girl undress in winter,

When it's frosty outside and warm within.

Off comes her heavy coat: I see her slim

Curvaceous outline through her sweater.

Each garment yielding to my hungry look,

Till bare arms are revealed, skin so tender.

And as I revel in her naked splendor

She reaches back behind her to unhook,

And oh my God! She liberates twin glories

Whose beauties always take my breath away

Nipples like dark candies proudly sway

Atop the kind of curves that belong in stories.

Her panties fall at last, and I arise,

Enraptured by the sight between her thighs.

~

4.

Why write poems? My tongue would rather express

Itself directly to your warm heaven, linger on it,

Singing of your beauty with a soft caress,

Instead of boring you with a bookish sonnet.

And as I lick your pussy, I'll come to know

Both your deep flavor and your deep proclivities,

Learning how you like it: gentle, firm, slow—

Then pleasure you to the best of my abilities.

Instead of stroking keys, my fingers desire

To stroke you where you're deep and hot and tight,

With touch and kiss and patience build a fire

That keeps you moaning, trembling half the night.

Oh then! to feel your waves of passion crest!

Of all life's poetry is far the best.

~

5.

If by some accident my soul should fly

To Heaven, I'll give the seventy virgins a pass.

Let me have my choice after I die

And I'd prefer twelve fine pieces of ass:

Three girls with an oral fetish, to take turns

Sucking, licking, drinking up the lot of me;

Three anally inclined, for when my hunger burns

To spice up Heaven's bliss with sodomy;

Three bisexual beauties: brown, blonde, red

To rewaken lust that needs persuasion;

A goth submissive masochist chained to my bed;

A tattooed bondage girl for a special occasion.

The twelfth and last and best, to share forever?

This girl here at my side! For now and ever.

~

6.

My mistress's clit is nothing like a jewel.

A vice is tighter than the cunt I fuck.

If coffee is hot, I guess her pussy's cool,

If blowing is sucking, why then her blowjobs suck.

I have seen flower petals in my yard,

But no such petals lie between her lips,

And there's some porn that gets me just as hard

As videos we've made in which she strips.

I love to fuck her deep, yet must concede,

My own right hand's a more convenient fit.

And from those entrances of hers proceed

Saliva, urine, mucus, blood and shit.

At yet, by heaven, the love between our souls,

I celebrate with come in all her holes.

~

7.

God bless the woman with a generous heart,

Who gives her love for love and not for favor

Of money, time, attention, gifts and labor.

Don't get me wrong, I love to give! That's part

Of any good relationship. It's such delight

To surprise my darling with expensive jewelry

Or the latest overpriced designer accessory

And say it pales to her beauty, and know I'm right.

A gift like that's the fruit, not seed of attraction.

For what's a bit of shiny rock? It's care.

It's showing gratitude for all we share.

Offered in advance, it's just transaction.

Give me the girl who gives her body free

And in return I'll gladly give her me.

~

8.

"Let us not to the mingling of our fluids

Admit impediments. Condoms are great.

They demonstrate we care enough to do it

With consideration. And after, once we wait

A few exclusive joyful months assuring

That our shared blood supply is ours alone

As we discover each other, a grand touring

With each new intimacy to make our own:

Then on to our reward! Off with the glove

And let me drink your pussy skin to skin

So that your potent wine I dearly love

Anoints and permeates my cock as I thrust in."

"Do it baby, strip naked and intrude!

I ache to feel your manhood in the nude."

~

9.

"Darling, I'm asleep, why is your hand

Upon my pubis, damp with our shared sweat?

Keep on like this and you will make me wet,

And we won't get to sleep like we had planned.

You know I let you fuck me hard already.

I drank your come before we went to bed.

I know it helps you sleep to give you head.

And yet your fingers stroke me oh, so steady.

And now they're pressing up into my body

I squeeze them with my cunt to show my pleasure

Yes, use me slowly, take me at your leisure.

I want to stay half-sleeping while you're naughty.

What luxury if I can rest and dream

While your hard manhood bathes me in your cream."

~

10.

"My ass?! And does the oily tightness of my front

Not bathe your cock in luscious perfumed heat?

When you plunge it iron hard into my cunt,

You'd really rather shove it up my seat?

Have the dear soft folds of my moistened flower

Withheld their nectar when you lick my hole?

Or failed to worship your cock's raw power

Taking you, squeezing you with my very soul?

And now you want this ring in my behind,

Where shit but never cock has passed before?

Even your finger is blowing out my mind:

Outraged, trembling, feeling like your whore.

Well take it then, if your desire is true!

Come fuck my ass. Truth is, I want it too."

~

11.

"Oh, gorgeous girl, I'm close!" "Yes, come inside!

In me my love, make me your woman now!

Your loving's left my cunt so gratified

With aching quivering bliss, so you choose how!

Shall my pussy taste your climax peaking

As she strokes and sucks the semen from your balls?

Then all day I'll enjoy you slowly leaking

Into my panties. Or pull it from my walls

And fuck my mouth! Pour love onto my tongue!

I'll open wide and show you before I swallow.

Or else my asshole's yours, for you have wrung

My raptures even from that dark shy hollow."

"How about your tits and face?" "Oh yes! Begin!

And watch me rub your passion in my skin."

~

12.

I love how ladies can go on for hours.

If I'm a fountain, my woman is the ocean.

When I have spent the last of all my powers

Her hips still do that hungry rocking motion:

And soon her hand, just a little shy

Intends a zealous pilgrimage below.

Slowly at first, and then her fingers fly

Extracting sighing tremors head to toe.

What kind of gentleman would I be

If I forbore to help her in her need?

I stroke her arm, breast, belly, knee;

Go down to where her fingers meet my seed.

My cock may need some rest, but not my face

To show her how I love that lovely place.

~

Extra Bonus Sonnet.

When, stuck at home with lonesome fears,

I mournfully regret my divorced state,

And trouble the empty night with useless tears,

And look upon my life and curse my fate,

Wishing I were like these happy others,

Married like him, like him with kids contented,

Or wanting back my wife and former lovers,

(And so with contrary regrets tormented)

Yet when I've lost near all my sense of worth,

Then I remember her, and what we shared,

(Like when November sun at last bursts forth

From sullen clouds) and I'm no longer scared;

For her sweet ass remembered such hope brings

That I will dare go on and stretch my wings.
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