A Realisation

A kiss is but a kiss, I’m heard to mumble
To see her spying as I take you, wench;
Time and space fall round us in a jumble
Of open lips and dark warm tastes that wrench
A realisation that she is helpless:
She can’t report the kiss because she’s bound
And gagged with make-up that is quite a mess;
As if, before she spied, she had been found
To be a wanton harlot and, thus, used -
I came upon her face, if you must know,
And now you’re going to clean her; I’m amused
To see that look of horror come and go
Across your face at my insinuation
Before I use you hard – such excitation!