Sweet Taste

She knew how hard he would be, but she said
I will not suck you, sir, though a voice screamed
Denial inside her mind. Fearfulness fled
And she was left certain for she had creamed
To think he'd tug her hair and fuck her face
And force her to the service that she knew
Was wanted of her. Who cares for the grace
Of femininity? He would eschew
That prize to press her back against the path
No matter if the wetness in the fields
Outdid her sodden panties, Master's laugh
While sitting on her face ensures she yields
All modesty, with her skirt round her waist
And tongue deep in her owner's arse - sweet taste.