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I met a someone, middle-aged or less,

We had a date, she wore a stunning dress,

Her bargain makeup plied to win a race

A wrinkle’s claw begins to scrape her face,

Her hair is clean but styled not with care,

The eyes betray a hidden, vacant stare.

I tear away her tired uniform!

Unhinge the bra and free her heart, half torn,

Rip off the panties, free her trembling hips,

As I kneel down and kiss her on her lips.

She’s left with nothing from her life at all

Lying back, she has begun the fall.

Translucent wrappings hold her body tight,

Against the table, half her flesh’s in sight.

Her moaning and her struggles nurse my soul,

For now half-panicked labor takes its toll:

She weakens and with whimpering release,

Begins to give her writhing womb some peace;

Her body begs her to remain in shade

And guzzle wine her parents had forbade.

Her ecstasy, it stirs a hunger, deep,

Now captive to her whims, I’m hers to keep.


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