She took me to her hiding place within her secret bower,
With auburn hair wound in the sun and the soft scent of flowers,
She took off every piece of clothing that had entwined her,
And settled on a bed of moss with lavender around her.
She beckoned me to
come forward and enter her embrace,
And gingerly I drifted close; her flesh as soft as lace,
I told her that I had never done acts like this before,
So she took me gently down onto the sultry floor.
She gripped my cotton shirt and pulled upon its flimsy
The weave it tore and shredded as the buttons off they came,
Her fingers fumbled with my belt releasing my dark hose,
As her feet grasped and clambered the cloth fell about my toes.
Excitement mixed with fear was deep and blending in my flesh,
It pricked my back and tinged my spine with acid bites of sweat,
And we hadn’t started yet!
She pulled me down upon her frame;
her nails tore my hide,
A sudden burning seared my loins as I was pushed inside,
I suddenly became aware that innocence was spent,
On the Lady of the Manor whose pleasure was my rent.
Even though it took many a day to wipe the smile from my face,
I wished that I had saved myself for someone special to my taste,
To take to that hiding place.