Fleshy thighs
Lie uncovered
Speckled with
Spots of cold.
 
Rotund and firm
Seen by all
Standing tall
Protruding.
 
Indeed the cleavage
We look
Oh yes
Between is the best.
 
Outside the fabric.
Inside the skin.
Choices make
Things difficult sometimes.
 
Bra straps twang.
We smell the tang
Of cum and booze.
The gavel bangs.
 
Black and tight.
Out at night.
The fault lies
On the slut inside.
 
And if you touch
The tangible skin,
It’s there.
Mine, surely?
 
And watch the flesh
Rise in bumps.
Still mine,
I’m warmer.
 
Collar pulled tight
Ready to fight
The eyes
On those thighs.
 
And yes
I have every desire
To set fire
To the ice beneath.
 
Indeed we will
When the pallid skin
Is shown.
Because we can.
 
Lengthen the leather
Button the collar
Then
You might be lucky.