And are you sounding out my words a little differently now?

he says
I want you on your knees

then he's fucking my face
and I've got my tongue tied taut
in a lecherous greed

a perfectly mindless compliance

(The only thing I'm good for
is selling my skin
and I like it
I like it
I like it)

with each grunt and thrust
he moans
groans like gravel
hands in my hair

(I choke)

intoxicated and gagging
as he hits
the back of my throat

He says
what a good girl
you take it so well

and the way that he breathes
has got my ears ringing

(like his hold on my throat
is almost reverent
but his nails in my skin
proves their perverse pestilence)

and then

stuttering hips
just at the fringe
and he's spilling his sins
in silky salacious sips

hot
filthy across my face

(Oh, god)
the obscene grace

he says
I want you on my bed