Fanciful Delights

Gentleness, that is what this flesh craves.

To be caressed softly, slowly …

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 it’s 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