Under The Hood
Your jeans are stretched tight as you bend under the hood,
T-shirt rumpled, pulled up. My hairy chest man.
Those jeans. So tight, revealing, beckoning.
'Would you like dinner now? I have
I walk slowly towards you from the hall.
I want you to watch me move.
I move with my hips and thighs.
My soul is moving inside you now.
Let us walk, my king, through
Palace halls, with my hand in
Yours. Warmth. Warmer.
I bring your hand to my lips