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

The Woman in Me

A new poem written for a friend by me.

The Woman in Me

Expelled from within with each muscles squeeze

Nouns and pronouns along with a preposition or two.

Mingle with verbs, adverbs and colorful adjectives to

Reds and yellows mixed with brilliant orange hues,  

Flowing in streams, driven by a continual breeze.

While the method of conveyance is equal on each side,

Some opt to ride the cells going to the right,

The shy and secretive for there is stability and safety there.

While the majority take highway that leads to the left,

eager to move on to the adventures that lay outside.

The right side filled beyond its capacity back a few years.

To the point where words and phrases long  hidden there

Began to wiggle and squirm looking for a way out.

Some were small and found the opening called the keyhole.

While others formed a chain, and slipped under the door.

The door is still closed, and probably will never fully open,

But those that have surfaced, to me are not new.

Words like, sexuality, gender, depression and unsure

Have been long locked in there, my personal cross to bare.

Which for some reason now, I have chosen to share.

I made my choice, some fifty-five odd years ago

To live my life as the physical gender that I was born.

Knowing but never telling my mother, who did so long

She did have a daughter, it just arrived in the wrong form.

She wanted one to call Nancy, but I prefer Dee Dee.

Dee Dee you see, is the best form of therapy there is for me.

She takes the words and thoughts that slip out from the right

Blending them with the colorful array expressed by the left.

To create stories, some short, some long, and poetry too,

That allows the woman in me, to tell her stories to you.

©May 20, 2015

Written for me

By: D. D. Story