An intimate message just for you...

Hey you. Yeah, I’m talking to you. Don’t look so surprised, you’ve always known I had it bad for you. And I’ve only just mustered the nerve to tell you, although a day doesn’t go by that you’re not foremost in my mind. Yes. I’ve fallen hard for you.
And I can’t get up.
Don’t ask me how it happened, or even when. Was it the first time I gazed into those adorable/inviting, blue/green/brown/hazel eyes? I don’t know. All I know is that I dream of you.
Was it the first time I heard your voice? How I longed to hear every sweet/sultry/sensitive/captivating sound you uttered/whispered/breathed/voiced? How can I know? I’m too smitten to think straight.
It’s not the curl/fall/absense of your auburn/blond/burnt umber hair. No. Nothing so cosmetic as that. It’s something about you…that special something that sets you apart. It makes you…you. And, God help me, I love you for it.
Just know how I feel right now, and that I wouldn’t want you to change ever. Not an inch/foot/meter taller/shorter/wider.
I just had to confess it. Forgive my boldness.

I am charmed/flattered/smitten/disgusted by your outpouring of emotion for me/myself/I. But as you know, I am already taken/married/seeing someone/infected, so I’m not sure how things/life/sex/videotaping with you would work out. Perhaps in the next life/near future/year 3000/coming weeks we can try again. I’m almost certain I will be available/dead/senile/pregnant by then.

With sincerest love/hate/ambivalence I sign myself:

Forever Yours/Leave Me Alone/Your Worst Nightmare/Come and Get It!

I feel lucky. The last time I opened a message with a title like that, it took our IT people the better part of a day to stamp out the ensuing virus.

::looking around::
who me?

Wow, I feel so flattered that I fit into those catergories oh so nicely! batting eyelashes You certainly have a way with words, albeit a sort of all encompassing one. Glad my feminine charms aren’t being ignored :slight_smile:
Oh pardon me.

Whew! ahem.


Hmmm. I’m, uh… Speechless…I never knew…didn’t even suspect…I mean…I’ve always admired your Picasso-esque body… (is it getting warm in here?) but to think you’ve had the hots for me…



So when do I get laid/fucked/make the beast with two backs/do the nasty/have coitus/sexual intercourse/do the boing-boing/get my nut off/cum?

Beguiled I am by all you state
Come close, let me reciprocate
And whisper to you words true meant
Of how your charms these arms torment
And then shall word meld unto kiss
In cyber-passion’s virtual bliss
For nothing in this life be cuter
Than my precious flirty struuter


Hmmm there must be somebody else in the room with me, because I’m sure there isn’t anybody who would think that about me…

I don’t know what to say…to think that there is a chance you might care for me/lust after me/be indifferent to me/be nausiated by me! Am I truly wicked because I yearn for the feel of you caressing/groping/licking/avoiding my body?
Say that I’m not. Say that you really want/need/desire/live for/remember me.

Oh, how my heart/hands/breast/mouth beats/tremble/heaves, straining against my bodice/opens, my moist tongue slowly moving across my lips in anticipation of our next meeting/luncheon/world tour/stormy night of passionate embraces/court date.
I am yours. Totally.

(*ianzin, that’s the first poem anyone’s ever written for me. Thank you, thank you…now, if only my username rhymed with ‘cuter.’ Damn. You know what? You pronounce it any way you like. It’s a new sig for me. :slight_smile: )

If you speak true, don’t toy with my affection:
Come over here and fondle my erection.


but…butbut… I’m gay

(I am inspiring poetry…albeit somewhat pornographic) :wink:

May I be so bold as to tell you how I dream of holding/stoking/fondling/mounting your impressive/enormous/visible/Guiness Book of World Record-holding hand/#@*%/!$&^?/ahem? Do you think less of me/more of me/about me at all?

You are hysterically funny, Pluto, and we don’t hear enough from you!


Its that sincerity that makes your message strike deep into my heart/kidney/bowels. I could (but won’t) just faint/puke/piss/doody when you walk in.



Since you hosted my first post,
You know that I love you the most,
But now you throw me over, chancing
Cyber-relationships with iantzin.
Return to me, and sin no more:
Electronically explore
All the mysteries you crave.
I promise not to misbehave.

I just wanted to say I love your handle. It makes me want to sneak up behind you, and scout the territory, and then give you a buttockus pinch that will make you agree to screw rad-ly.

Oh, but I want/long for/anticipate/count on you to. :wink: