A New Naughty Poem - From D. D. Story

Tick Toc popped into my head, and guess what rhymes with Toc :)

D. Dee

Tick Toc

Tick Toc, Tick Toc

Another night alone

Not a soul around

To hear my moan

Tick Toc, Tick Toc

Naked as the day I was born

And not a soul to see

My nipples grow erect from prone

Tick Toc, Tick Toc

My wet finger comes into sight

Sliding over the left

Then circling the right

Tick Toc, Tick Toc

Most guy’s would say

That all that I need

Is a big cock to make my day

Tick Toc, Tick Toc

Those that have known me,

Know that I have never needed

A man’s cock, to make my day.

Tick Toc, Tick Toc

Time seems to stand still

My fingers are moving closer

I am starting to sense the coming thrill

Tick Toc, Tick Toc

Like the hands of a clock

Perfectly aligned at mid-night

Two fingers, better than any cock

Tick Toc, Tick Toc

Wet fingers slip between my lips

Coated with nectar way beyond the tips

So easy now, to slip in, my big rubber cock.

©June 3, 2015

D. D. Story

Today’s Atrocity

Today’s  Atrocity – Brought to you by Guns

Once again, or should I say, Today’s Atrocity  was there to greet me, as I sipped my coffee,  when I glanced through the few new agencies that I have on my Kindle.   Today’s Atrocity was not in the United States, this time, rather in Paris, France.  Another 12 dead, and maybe more yet to die, gunned down while they went about their daily routine. 

They day before it is a family, snuffed out by their son, take your choice, the one on the west coast or the one on the east coast.  What is the body count in the last few years, I wonder, are we wasting more lives at home than we did in Afghanistan. The answer is a resounding yes.  Between 2008 and 2012 Murders in the US surpassed the total deaths for the Vietnam war.[1]  For 2013 someone in this country was murdered every 37 minutes.[2]  How were the vast majority of these murders committed, why with firearms of course.

I can hear the NRA members already saying their normal line, “That’s why we need to be able to bear arms, to protect ourselves.”  I wonder how it is that so many intelligent people can be led and swayed by so few.  When the NRA, was run by hunting enthusiast, I had no problem with the organization.  But the driving force behind the NRA today, is small groups that are more interesting in playing militia than thinking.  They need their AK’s and Thousands of rounds of ammunition, to protect their little space in the wood from the Government of the United States, for they all know that the US Government is always trying to take over the common man.  Hell the US Government, can’t even control third world piss pots, with the strongest army in the world.  I am not worried about my own government, I am worried about my fellow countrymen who feel they need to protect themselves from it.

The 2^nd was written in the late 1780’s with the intent to ensure that the common man, could and would be able to bare arms, for two reasons.  One they needed to hunt to survive in most cases, and two, the Government had no standing Army, and it needed its country men to come to it’s assistance in times of trouble.  The 2^nd was not written, with the intent that the average citizen could maintain an arsenal at their home, that often makes them better equipped than many US Army infantry members. 

I know that we will never do away with the right to bear arms in the United States, but whose rights are being violated, if a background check is done before a weapon is purchased, or the amount of ammunition owned by an individual is limited.  No citizen, who has the legal right to own a weapon is being stopped from owning one.  Only those who should not be allowed to own a weapon would be prohibited from owning them, as they are now.  I would increase the reasons for not allowing gun purchases, to include mentally ill, and those being treated for severe anxiety or depression.    A tough stance, but it could be done,  those on prescription medicines for treatment of such conditions, are on file, and it should be part of a back ground check.

The simple act of requiring a background check, and the time it would take to do it, would stop a number of mass murders, that take place because someone is upset or disgruntled, so the go by a gun, and come back in a hour or the next day, and shoot up their work place or school.

 

Oh I know, people will get killed by other people even without guns.  The first murder was Cain slewing is brother Able with a rock.  But what it will stop is the ever increasing instances of people committing mass murders, with absolute ease, simply by pulling a trigger and moving the gun from side to side.  Single shot weapons eliminate this possibility, greatly, as even the best has to take time to jack in another round, or pull the hammer back on a revolver.  A true hunter wouldn't be effected, in fact it will make them a better shot.  A sniper fires a single shot rifle with deadly accuracy from long range, because they only need one shot, just as a experienced hunter does. 

I am more than happy to answer any comments regarding this post.

D. D.

---

[1] FBI Data Table 8 Link: http://www.fbi.gov/about-us/cjis/ucr/crime-in-the-u.s/2012/crime-in-the-u.s.-2012/offenses-known-to-law-enforcement/expanded-homicide/expanded_homicide_data_table_8_murder_victims_by_weapon_2008-2012.xls

[2] FBI Crime Clock Statistics, Link: http://www.fbi.gov/about-us/cjis/ucr/crime-in-the-u.s/2013/crime-in-the-u.s.-2013/offenses-known-to-law-enforcement/browse-by/national-data

D. D. Story Page - Vol #11, Issue 3 - Books, The Gift that keeps on Giving

D. D. Story Page, Vol #10, Issue 3 - Pussy Update

D. D. Story Page, Vol 9 Issue 1 - Completion of New Story & Cover

D. D. Story Page, Vol #8 Issue 5. Update, Lickety Split Consulting and Detective Agency

D. D.s Story Page Vol. 8, Issue 1 - New Release & Tease

How To Spend A Friday Night Home Alone

From D. D.'s # 1 Fan - If you heading home on this Friday night - or if your already there - damn another Friday night alone.  Don't despair... Why not just slip over to Amazon Kindle, or Smashwords and find yourself a Novel, Short Story or book of erotic poetry, to help you through your Friday night.

What is even better is that the gift you give yourself tonight, will keep on giving to you any time you pick it up.  That is the beauty of books, either in paper or e-books.  They can take you places you may have only dreamed of, or take you on a fantasy ride.  They can may you laugh or make you cry.  They can be your best friend at any time.

 A full list of D. D.s books 

So get yourself a chilled  bottle of wine, or your favorite adult beverage, get dressed for comfort and find out just how much a Friday night alone can be.

D. D. Story Page Vol 7 Issue 5 New poem "A Book & Wine"

D. D. Story Page Issue 7, Vol 4. New Story Idea

Double Sided Mirror - Poem

I turned my hat around on Friday, and spent a portion of the day at the Antique store that I deal out of.  I had a lady bring up what appeared at first glance to be hand mirror with a floral silver plate handle, and I assumed back side also, as the mirror side was facing me.

It was definitely a ladies mirror, and actually mirrored on both sides, with only the handle and frame decorated.  Both mirrors produced the same image, and we kidded about would someone look better on one side than the other.  

As soon as I said that I knew that there was a poem in their for me.  
So for your Sunday Afternoon or Evening reading pleasure here is the poem the mirror inspired me to write:

A double sided hand mirror

Begs for the question to be asked?

If you look good on one side

Will you look the same or better on the reverse?

The evil queen had a special mirror

That would show on its one side, the most

Beautiful woman in all of the land,

Even if it was not held in that persons hand

My dad had a shaving mirror

Of which one side made everything fat

But I know of no woman

Who would look into a mirror like that

Could it be that this mirror only reflects moods

With a happy side and a sad side for which to look

On one side, there is always a smile looking at you

On the other, you’re smile is always upside down

But I think it more likely

That both sides are the same

Happy if you are, sad when you’re not

True to your image, whether you like it or not

By: D. D.

©August 2, 2014

Suzy Q. Stories Publishing

P.O. Box 143, North Chili, NY  14514

All right Reserved

D. D.'s Story Page, Vol # 7, Issue 1 - Pricing Structure

AN OPEN LETTER FROM D.D.

AN OPEN LETTER

FM:  D. Dee

TO:  Those in my +G Circles

SUBJ:  Coming Out

Some may say coming clean, but I just went over my profile, and I have never lied about who I claim to be!

Some friends asked the other day, about some more info on me.  The poem that follows flowed out of me, so now you can all read about me.  I may not physically be what you thought, but in my mind and heart I am D. D. who I truly long to be.

I am sorry if I hurt, or you think that I deceived, but I have longed to be D. D. for so long it became very hard to step out of the role.  My page will remain, and so will my blog’s, to promote my writings as I had intended it to be.  What you have read and enjoyed in the past, has always come from deep within my heart and my soul.  I know of no other way to write, so I will continue to let it flow, and see where in the future it will go.

Delete me if you must, I will try to understand, as gender dysphoria is still under the rainbows arch.  I hope some will stay, to forgive my over enthusiasm, and not being able to let go of the role.

Love,

D. D.

+D. Dee

A Crack in the Door

I hear the creaking,

Of a rusty old hinge,

Could it be coming from the

Closet I’ve been hiding in.

The door is starting to open

The first time; in 60 plus, years.

Only a few have seen the crack

And the light it does spew.

And even fewer know

For sure what is true.

About what has lurked; in

The shadows, never knowing, what to do.

For when I was young, a dress up doll I became

My cousins love to dress me up,

Prepubescent then as our ages were the same

And I was more than happy to play the game.

I loved to be dressed up, in satin and lace,

Too young for much more than a smile on my face.

But it felt so natural, and I felt so right.

Mother wanted a daughter; she just didn’t know she had one.

Back then the terms were Faggot, Sissy or Queer

Transgender Disorder was not even a term.

You were considered then to be sick in the head.

And if you went public you might end up dead.

So I had my special times

When I wore my satin and lace

All alone, but so happy in my hidden space

Never ever leaving without; a smile on my face.

When I looked at the girls,

They never ever knew,

That it wasn’t them I wanted,

But, rather the clothes they were in.

I had no desire for boys and sausage toys,

My only desire was for women and their attire.

I met my life companion, who knew not my desire,

But willingly accepted my oral desires.

Four plus decades, she never knew that

Shopping was such an erotic time for me.

Or wondered why I bought all her clothes

Except for her shoes, she bought those. 

The millennium changed

As did the love in my heart

Still living together, yet apart

One unhappy with life, the other lost in art.

The one I truly was, did re-appear

Fighting her way to the surface,

Taking control of my heart and mind

Letting my inner self become Dee.

Dee began to express herself

In both verse and pros,

Erotic and naughty in her roles

On the Internet, dressed, in women’s cloths.

Never teasing a male in real or lust

The taste of a female was her must.

Her roles turned into stories,

Where from Suzy Q. first bust.

Writing at home and even at work

Wherever and whenever, she got the chance.

Her imaginative mind would take control

Her wet panties not the original goal.

Late in two thousand and one,

A story did begin to flow

Straight out of her heart

Straight out of her soul

Four years and five novels later

The life she dreamed of

Lay before her on paper.

It was decision time, sooner not later.

With a sixth decade soon to begin,

The decision made to purge once again.

Too late in life to change gender now;

A daughter and granddaughter, how to tell?

Retired in twenty ten, suddenly happy again,

My friends the most part women,

No longer trapped, in a man’s place;

Dee was making her ascent up the well face.

My thoughts of women, as they had long been

If I was a lesbian, would they still be my friend.

Oh but to make love with them, as only a lesbian can:

Completely immersed; in each other’s body and soul

Our hearts re-united in two o one two

With still only one true romantic between the two.

Her mother not well has put us through hell.

But has allowed Dee to finally publish and write.

She has been in my closet, but only so far

She has read some of my stories

She has accepted my alter ego

But only what I have shown her so far.

It makes is easier now that she knows

Along with my sister in law, who’s kind of always known

And now two more my dear Ingrid and Tess

I don’t know what to tell the rest?

I feel that Dee is the real me.

When I am the most comfortable within me

I am thinking, or writing, or dreaming as Dee

So I think that is the name I choose for me.

By:  D. D.

©July 21, 2014

Suzy Q. Stories Publishing

All Rights Reserved

"Alone in her Nest" a new Poem by D. D.

New Poem by D. D. "Telling My Secrets Too You

Telling My Secrets Too You

Alone on an old shaky wooden dock

At the edge of the old farm pond

Where I once was a child until I grew

Into a young woman that no boy knew

Though a few tried, none got through

Well except for one, when I was twenty two

Five years and one daughter later,

He was gone, with someone new

  

I've come back to this old dock once again

To rethink my youth, and talk to a friend

A big old tabby, who I knew as a kitten

One who’s always been there both now and then

She listens without comment

Except for an occasional mew

No matter if I tell her

Something shocking or new

Even when I tell her of

My making love to you

She rubs her face against my hand

Telling me that she understands

She does not judge me

Because you are another girl

She returns my love and affection

Just as you did when I was with you

My time has come to leave this pond

For one last and final time

But I won’t leave you behind this time,

Come and live with me old friend of mine

It’s time for you to meet

This new friend of mine

I know you won’t mind

If we cuddle you all the time

But you have to give us our time

For our kitties like to cuddle

And play from time to time

Just like two kittens with a ball of yarn

By: D. D.

©June 19, 2014

Suzy Q. Stories Publishing

P.O. Box 143, North Chili, NY 14514

All Rights Reserved

D. D. Story Page Vol 5 Issue 4 Pride Poem

Lost in a Wistful Dream

Lost in a wistful dream

As I sit curled up

In an old wicker chair,

Beneath an old shedding, tree.

White eyelet and lace,

Has replaced the all black.

As I watch fall hued leaves,

Drift into my special place.

My thoughts drift toward

You and this space we once shared.

With you no longer here

I feel nothing but deep despair.

My heart is filled with pain,

Without the touch of your body

Tight against mine, or simply

The feel of your hand in mine

Time may heal this pain that I feel,

But will it ever, just once reveal

The reason why you chose to end

Your life that to me was so real.

This is for all of us who has ever lost a friend or a friend of a friend through the taking of their own life.

This is not where I expected this picture to take me, as I began to write, but this is what flowed out of my heart.

Love D. D.

©June 3, 2014

D. D.

Suzy Q. Stories Publishing

D. D. Story Page Vol #4 Issue 8 Erotic Poem

A Palette of Keys

This evenings creation, I hope you enjoy!

A Palette of Keys

Time and again I pick up my pen.

Only to put it back down again.

Why I ask myself did I chose a pen.

I must have had a flashback again.

I haven’t used a pen to create

Since, I became able to procreate.

Well maybe not quite since that long;

But, certainly since, I last kissed a dong.

I much prefer for my fingers to careen

Across a palette of sensitive keys;

Nested within, my logic machine.

Resting on a ancient tray above my knees.

A palette of alpha, numeric and function keys,

Blending together letters set free,

Released from deep; within me,

And forming prose, or verse from me.

Sometimes the letters are dark,

And sometime the letters are blue.

But my favorite letters are pink in hue,

Letters that make me think of you.

Pink like your full lips,

Be they high or low.

Pink like your tongue

And flush passions glow.

This verse you would have never seen

If I had actually held onto my pen,

Instead of letting my fingers

Dance and caress the palette of key.

©May 19, 2014

D. D.

Suzy Q. Stories Publishing

Love & Cherish

I have no Idea where this came from, it just flowed out of me.

D.D.

Love & Cherish

Something Old: My antique wedding gown.

Something New: You’re brand new wedding gown.

Something Borrowed: The panties I borrowed from you.

Something Blue: The pale blue thong I gave to you.

Our wedding day is here.

Our hearts are full of cheer.

Our friends are waiting in their seats.

Our music brings them to their feet.

My father, to my left

You’re father on your right.

We meet at the alter

Huge smiles on our faces.

We say our vows,

And become wife and wife.

Something we have dreamed of,

For much of our life.

Now it is time to celebrate,

To party with our friends,

Both gay and straight,

Together meet us at the gate.

The party goes on till late;

Lasting well; into the next date.

I hold you in my arms;

My beautiful loving wife.

I whisper softly in your ear,

How bad I want you my dear.

You hold me tight against you,

An whisper what you’ll do to me.

It’s time for us to leave,

I need to bow before you on my knees

With only one need between we,

To pleasure my wife; as she pleasures me.

We slip away, to our night’s hideaway.

Where we slowly and sensually remove

Each other’s gown, till we only wear down,

As we stand, our feet buried in gowns.

Nipple to nipple, mound to mound;

Lips and tongues; searching all around.

We fall to the bed and spin around,

Lips to lips; tongues in mounds.

Twenty four hours of bliss,

The result of a single kiss,

My wife in my arms,

To love and cherish for life.

©May 18, 2014

D. D.

Suzy Q. Stories Publishing