Sexy Panties Again đź‘™

the simple elegance
of my pretty blue-gray pants
Is enough to make you hope
I will simply not say nope
As you move in, so you can
fulfil your wicked plan,
And tell me (as a friend)
The panties should descend[
So, that I can present
A sweet sex you'd compliment,
And you'd complement (with these
Panties round my knees)
With your mighty priapus
Your tiny huge, powerful plus
That you'd feed into me,
If your erection could just be
A little more sustained
So your armchair has less stains

And I would, so sweetly,
Accept that you can own
My soul, my heart, each moan
I utter, caused by you,
And your passion to corrupt
Which is virtually nil
You being sexy as sea krill
Vomitted by a sperm whale
Who's name's longer than the fail
Of your filthy, fetid mind
Which leads me so unkind

And so flawed, panties stay upped.

Méli
 
I love the feel of lace against the skin;
I find it a sophisticated look;
Yet, I sense it's not wanted: you may sing
Your praises of the fabric, but you took
So little time to strip it from my frame,
And left it on the floor, amidst the wreck
Of finer clothing, that can't be worn again;
I love to show I'm proudly at the beck
And call of Sir, who has simple desires,
Where fashion does not feature in the least;
I guess I ought to smile, when Sir admires
The nudity: delightful visual feasts,
And active sensual needs, that fall in place,
Only when skin is bared and can't feel lace...

Méli
 
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