Am I your guilty pleasure?
Your sordid erotic dream.
Do you think of me?
When your fingers set you free.
Am I the fuel that fires?
Heating your orgasmic core.
Am I the tempter?
That calls out your inner whore.
Am I what you need?
Do I give all you want?
Do I tear down the facade?
Destroy the guarding front.
Am I a vision of freedom?
A path to sexual liberation.
Or simply a guilty pleasure,
The prequel to masturbation?
I wonder what you’re thinking,
If your thoughts turn to me.
I wonder what’s on your mind,
What images you see.
I wonder if I’m there,
In amongst those wistful thoughts.
I wonder if I intrude a space,
This devil that really shouldn’t ought.
I wonder if I occupy,
If I’m there doing what you want.
I wonder if I’m turning you on,
Wetting your little cunt.
I wonder if your imagination,
Is driven enough to play.
I wonder if you’ll masturbate,
Perhaps cum for me today.
I wonder as I imagine you do,
If those things perhaps aren’t right.
But I’ll never wonder if that’s true,
Because I want you to, now, tonight.
I like to watch you, I like to sit and see you play for me.
The way you open your legs and gently slide your fingers up your thighs.
The way you tease and open the petals of your sweet little vagina.
I like to see inside your soul as your stroke your sensitive swollen clit, eye on eye.
Nothing gets me off more than knowing that when you close those beautiful blue eyes, you envisage me.
That when you get off, you get off over me.
That gets me hard, that pushes my hand into my shorts and drives me to pull out and stroke.
That thought, that sight, that is what forces the cum up and out of my throbbing cock onto my belly.
You, you and what you do.
I don’t like, I love, I love to watch you.
Your cup runneth over,
Filled full with perversion’s desire.
Your fires within rise,
Fueling a heretical pyre.
The dagger in your hand,
Gripped ready to plunge inside.
Given over to lust,
And the temptation upon which she rides.
Give yourself up to me,
Lie spread upon my altar.
Hold your nerve my sacrificial lamb,
Be strong, do not falter.
Give me the strength you hold inside,
As you work your ungodly rights.
Share the power you’d openly conjure,
As a Pagan far from his light.