Fantasy For Trade

An Angel sits; a golden girl,
Now released by man of war.
A token shirt, of white and flesh,
A virgin body to which I press,
A tongue, a kiss, a stolen thought,
& with my fingers, lesson’s taught.
Undress so slow & tease my loins,
Five hundred pounds in hard earned coins.
A damsel young, with fresh skinned hips,
Her sensual body & scarlet lips.
She leads me on by sitting there,
Her face so young, her eyes don’t care.
In many ways I take her soul,
This sweet girl maiden, taken whole.
She bites her lips, her gums they bleed,
Her young sweet body, filled with seed.
She scars my skin with nails and blood,
Her tears and sweat; erotic flood.
She grinds and screams, her moans excite,
Erotic dance in red flamed light.
Her skirt is bathed in human waste,
Whilst mouth suggests my body’s taste.
I hold her close and stroke her hair,
Across her back, to delicious lair.
She smiles and sighs and her body’s wrapped,
In lustful arms, though now I’m sapped.
Candles burn and sleep consumes,
Man and girl in stolen room.
We lie there now, and love it burns,
Her childish body for money earned.

~ No reason for this; just inspired by TS singing White Blank Page!

(c) Ed Simkins

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