She must be a muse

BY Carl_Koop
Confess Your Erotic Fantasy

I've always been a shy introverted guy.
That's probably why I spend most of my time
at home with my poems.

My best friend owns
the second-hand bookstore
two blocks away from my house.
He could be my grandfather
but I like to chat with him
about Mahmood Darwish,
a countryman of his.

But my friend is in his 80s
and from time to time
his grandaughter helps him
with the accounting.


Every time I enter the shop
her eyes captivate me.
I feel defenseless
on my knees
and I only wish
she ties me down
with her long curly dark mane.

She must be a fallen muse
waiting for someone
to inscribe her thighs
in the most sensual poem.
She must be a prophet.
She must be a religion.
She must be mine.

One day, my friend was not in the shop.
But she was
and she told me she knew
I liked poetry, she knew
I desired her.

From a stack a books she took
“The Flowers of Evil”
a full-colored edition
with drawings of angels
fucking their way to paradise
or hell.

Only then I noticed
the shop was closed.
We were at the bookstore

Your Comments

Image credits
In Xconfessions we are thrilled to feature images from new pioneers of sexual imagery. We are not the owners of all images on this site, and owners are credited where they could be found. If you are an artist who would like to credit their work, or is interested in featuring your work on the XCONFESSIONS site, please email If you are the owner or model of this photo, and would like it removed from the site, please also email the above address.

Watch your sexual fantasies come to life in award-winning films

Join Now