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What are you waiting for?
If Thou Drinketh of my lips, ye shall not ask for wine,
I’ll allow your wandering fingertips over my curves divine.
My softened skin beckons as I drape myself before thee,
My lips themselves glisten, as they hungrily purse upon thee,
Your eyes fix on my breasts as merrily they rise and fall,
But it is what’s within my chest that is the greatest treasure of all.
It is the way the Chantilly lace lies softly upon my skin,
Never concealing that much, yet taking your mind for a spin,
And your mind is still reeling from the scent that tickles the air,
It softly whispers, “Play with me, I’ll whisk away your cares.”
My hair softly billows around my shoulders firm,
Your eyes slowly devour me; I can see the fire burn,
The shackles hold you steadily, keeping you in your place,
I take my time sparingly, as I cut away the lace.
Your muscle strain against the steel, Cold and hard it holds,
You know better than to break free, you will do as your told.
Your goddess walks toward you, her breath upon your face,
My body moves so softly, it’s made for style and grace.
Tonight my word is law, and happily your knees will bend,
With a personal goddess by your side, you still can’t help but grin.
You will happily accept the rules, and the punishment I put forth,
For this Mistress before you accepts you, and she never denies your worth.
A man of the world who bows at home, as strangely as it seems,
For what would life be worth without your Mistress, Goddess, and Queen.
By: Aubrey Nitzberg 8/9/09
