Gentleness, that is what this flesh craves.
To be caressed softly, slowly Ö
Bring that mink glove this way
Let it glide across the flesh upon
Mine back, sending goose flesh
Spreading as if a Spring breeze
Is blowing through the room.
Tantalize this feminine soul with
Masculine authority, mold me
With thy hands for I am pliable,
Much like putty. Beneath thy touch
I melt like butter upon a hot stove,
Make me sizzle like bacon in the pan
And show me what itís like to feel
Like a woman in heat. Bring my blood
To boil with passion and sweetness,
Lap up the nectar which is mine to
Provide. Rough, yet gentle all the same,
As we dance in lovers fashion until
The Reaper claims us for the grave.
(c) 2003 A Riddle