A “Brief” Encounter
An old shaggy dog story put into verse
I felt like a man who’d been found with his hand
buried deep in the old cookie jar;
when she fixed me a stare, as transfixed I stood there,
and she purred, “Sweetheart, take off my bra.”
My discomfort grew worse, as I muttered a curse,
she adopted a tone that was mocking;
and I swear this is true; I would not lie to you —
“Now, my darling, please slip off my stockings.”
Well, it soon became clear her intent was sincere,
and she understood upping the ante;
for she left me no choice, with her soft, sexy voice,
“Quickly honey, we don’t need my panties!”
Self-respect disappeared as she stood there and leered,
for in truth not a stitch did remain;
and I felt quite a fool as she laid down this rule —
“Don’t you dare wear my clothing again!”
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