Unlace those leather boots
Lay your clothes aside
Black lipstick trappings
It's your sex that has me crucified
I run my hands across your leather
As I sprawl you on a black velvet bed
I kiss thick lips wet with sweat
And I'll dispel that blackness from your head
I'll touch you complete
And lick off wine so sweet
From trembling fingers
From writhing bodies that start to heat
They call it sex,
But we're making love
I would never betray you
Because it's only you I'm thinking of.
No need to philosophize
When you undress me with your eyes
Take off that leather,
Unlace those boots,
And in passion together,
How I'd love to make you scream,
As I do things to you
That makes Satan dream
And that teasing laughter
As I pin you down,
Your eyes a-glitter,
You make one sound:
Mooooooooooooo
I'm only too happy to slaughter you.
Take off that leather.
Copyright (c) by M.R. Haden 1997
Reason for writing:
About as humorous as I get. In reference to my wide circle of sado-masochistic friends with predilections for black leather.
Birth sign: Not entered
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