Primal rhythms pilot his thrust,
Masculine Eros, royal driblet,
Measured commander, penning couplet.
Leaving the fields of the slain uncollected,
Gaining on she, this ripe queen unprotected,
Scheming for days, his desire effected,
She waits in her chamber for love intersected.
She of patrician, he of high state,
Her ravenous beauty she uses as bait,
Her mote needing crossing, he takes the lead,
He wishes for knighthood, she’s anxious to cede.
Maidenhead tremble, she knows his need,
Moving her soft hand, milking his seed,
Feminine romance, a nightingale song,
Swelling wet ribbon, his conquest erelong.
His due demanded, a prince in control,
Virginity stranded, she needs to feel whole,
Co-scripted collusion, awaiting floodgates,
Her Brahman reclusion, his viscous filtrates.
Impeccable manners, or so some may think,
They’ll turn that feign off with a nod and a wink.
Him in black leather, her ‘in the pink’,
He lance-a-throbbing, she needing a drink.
No window dressings, left to give way,
No cotton fineries on either will stay,
No sign of status, unclothed, equal prey,
A lady of pleasure, a King for a day.
