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Click hereHer lips embrace his neck, seducing him,
They're feeling for the moment he'll react,
Slowly her tongue slides out, reducing him
to murmurings: that pleasure of impact
Of flesh on flesh; the oh, so liquid feel...
The guileful temptress, eager at his throat,
and, if his heart won't speed, he's made of steel,
She might as well be gone - where is her coat?
Put down that book, man, go, caress her cheek,
Unzip her dress, let it slip to the floor,
The rest follows as she is held, she's weak,
she's trembling, she's needy; she'll adore
The stripping of all fancy; she will grace
The whim she first induced with that embrace.