Thick Fingers

He’ll move quite suddenly, so that his hand
Is cupping that wet sex; and, then, he’ll sink
A finger rather slowly, as he planned,
Deep in the sensual cleft; and, on the brink
Of telling her to come, slut, he will hold
Her firmly in her place, arm round that waist;
And she’ll suppress a moan; she won’t be bold,
Because she knows that boldness does not taste
Of pleasure in the way that she might find
As satisfying as master’s aggression;
He’ll ease his digits in and out and blind
Her to other feverish expression
Of need she might concoct, when her tight groove
Is filled with his thick fingers on the move...