Soft curves pressed firm into the contours of your dress,
open fabric inviting me to want to make a mess.
A supple ass I want to hold,
smooth legs I want to fold.
Hold you up around me, push you down below me,
bound up in the torment of going very slowly.
Can I call you names and make you call me Master?
Can I pull your perfect hair and make it a disaster?
Across your stomach, along your spine,
around your waist, I'll make you mine.
No corner undiscovered, every part explored,
nothing left uncovered as you squirm and beg for more.
Only at my own pace, as I seize you everywhere.
But do be patient, for I will take you there.