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deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Grateful Boy
She blindfolds him with stockings round his eyes:
The very silky black that graced her legs,
Which he had kissed, when, much to his surprise,
He found her standing over him; he begged
To have her lift her skirts, so he could see
The panties and the lace: that garter belt
Was lost from sight, needing a special plea
From him to view, but, blindfolded, he felt
The rewards that designer stubble brings,
When she reached down to stroke the ragged cheek
And slapped his face, so that the burnt flesh stings,
As all his strength is focused on this weak
Embodiment of manhood, which so fits
The grateful boy who quietly submits.
The very silky black that graced her legs,
Which he had kissed, when, much to his surprise,
He found her standing over him; he begged
To have her lift her skirts, so he could see
The panties and the lace: that garter belt
Was lost from sight, needing a special plea
From him to view, but, blindfolded, he felt
The rewards that designer stubble brings,
When she reached down to stroke the ragged cheek
And slapped his face, so that the burnt flesh stings,
As all his strength is focused on this weak
Embodiment of manhood, which so fits
The grateful boy who quietly submits.
Published 8th Feb 2015
| Edited 2nd Sep 2017
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