the feminine touch is soft as a feather/ with an undercurrent of controlled power/ they’re swift yet always gentle/ velvety as a petal on a flower
men are the rushing of streams/ they’re a gust of wind that rushes your hair/ delicate features of a sturdy figure/ sharp minds beneath their stares
a woman on my left and a man on my right/ the whisper of a touch trails my skin/ a rough callus creates a sweet friction/ electricity through my blood and everywhere within
i beg for mercy but never a swift death/ play it out slow like torture/ make me writhe against the wall and under the sheets/ sweet relief flows through me like water
a woman on my left and a man on my right/ the lick of an ear and a taste of the neck/ who is who, it’s all just skin/ as long as they promise to leave me a wreck