My lips are pink.
My hood is red.
And though I know
the roads are safe by day,
I walk the night instead.
Through mossy moor and meadow creek,
beneath the moon, I hear you speak.
Your golden eyes like beacons send
a welcome glow I comprehend.
By forest foliage, dark and still,
I plod the narrow paths until
a hidden cabin’s candle flame
evokes your will. You call my name.
I tap against the wooden door
as misty fingers twirl my hair.
A clutch of vines creep through the floor
to tie me down and hold me where
your gentle roughness tears and rips
away my buttons, ties and clips.
You lay me bare as tundra snow
then down between my legs you go.
With heated breath, your snarling lips
embrace the pearl between my hips
and drink the potion that I spray
till all my strength is sucked away.
You bite the berries on my breasts
with piercing fangs that make me cry.
My sultry sweat, my heaving chest
confess a need I can’t deny.
So tightly bound, so widely splayed,
my slick surrender has betrayed
what little hope of virtue still
remains against your cock’s appeal.
For though I find myself entwined,
I fear you not. We are aligned.
Outside of desperation’s grasp,
I feel a thickness that I clasp.
It burns inside my velvet sheath
with you on top and I beneath.
Above the hearth, a roaring fire
has emulated our desire.
Breathless pounding, tooth and claw;
you hold me down and fuck me raw!
The wounded gash from which I bleed
is screaming for your soothing seed.
Your fearsome howl of letting go
has made my fountain overflow…
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