Crashing the funeral of an old acquaintance. Feeling she was fresh out of patience. Placing a rose on his casket it seemed. Caught the attention of a Strong Young Steed. Taunting his Libido with a tactic only she would know. Following his Chin line with her finger. Knowing his attention would linger. With "come hither" gesture, he'll become her Jester. Spreading her long legs wide in the back of the Limo. As a bead of sweat loiters at the tip of his nose. Knowing his Cock was the one She chose. Pumping away on a Starving Widow you see. Would make the common Peasant turn to flee. For many have traveled to her Mansion on the hill. Only retrieved by their family as a body cold and still. I tried my luck with this Temptress you see. Not did I turn to flee. What I did to survive was a tactic I've heard. Only told in taverns of Dregerts and Bandits, Pirates and Thieves.
Turn your Ears if you cannot perceive. Knowing the song in your head was "Bringing in the Sheaves". No seed shall be passed in plucking this fruit, for Lilith herself wouldn't allow Adam to take root. Burning with desire I pluck the forbidden fruit. Sending a lightning bolt up her spine, the feeling so splendor, a delicious note, with her high pitched cry. The feeling of dominance so scrumptiously sublime. She whimpered and folded after I had my fill. Gliding to the bath as I take her by the arm. Pouring it on with Empathy combined with my Masculine Charm. It seemed that was the key to the treasures hidden inside, not a hair on my head was harmed for me to run and hide For a decade times ten I've handled my Mistress to this day. But, now it seemed she's gotten what she wanted in fairplay. For the sweet tender legs of young ladies have kept me taunted. I did not know she sank her canines into my flesh that night. As we engaged in a love making frenzy to my fright. I now am a Child of the Night. Be mindful of the Cemetery, for we'll crash it to find fresh meat to bite. And if you do not comply, we'll send you to your coffin in the stinking earth under our pale, wretched feet just for spite.
© Dale A Martinez