Pretending your My call-girl one night,
You come around looking just right,
To my front door in your spike-healed boots,
I lift your skirt then say "wait here."
On go the lights of the Christmas tree,
Then back to unwrapping you.
Cars driving by catch a stare,
At me parting your thighs wide,
You arch your back with a need to please.
Down before you to my knees I drop,
Tracing your edges with my tounge,
Savoring your taste, with with every stroke.
And on my mouth there forms a grin,
Your sighs resumes, as I lick you within,
Lips melting with sweet honey.
Not one drop do I let go to waste.
Whispering, "tell me what you need,"
No more time for play I plead,
"I will do anything you ask,
Fulfilling your fantasy my only task."