Art of Seduction

Art of Seduction        
                 
     My maiden gathers her skirts so that her lacy panties are in full pink bloom. “Pray tell what is the nature of your deviance?”                  
     She falls back upon a bale of hay with her frock pulled up to her waist. “Prithee I should not disclose such matters to as young and innocent a maiden such as thee.”                  
     My maiden rests her hands upon the cusp of her thighs. “Oh, but what stay thy tongue?”          My breastplate is fallen on the grass in defeat. “Only the modesty duly observed with thy fair self.”                  
     She takes my sword from its scabbard and points it between my legs. “Well please let not my maiden countenance preclude thee.”      
     My codpiece is unbuttoned by her agile fingers only to fall onto the soil. “Discretion is the better part of valor. Honor dictates my discourse. Thou art but a babe in matters of intimacy.”                  
     She pokes my family jewels with my rapier. She pulls her thrusts like an expert sparring partner.  “Thou dost presume too much. My carnal knowledge is surely as depraved as your wildest imagination. No virgin am I.”                  
     “Still ‘twould be robbing the cradle to plunder the treasures of thy maidenhood.”  
     With my gloves, I push the point away from my prick and close my legs. “Oh, thou art a coward. ‘Twould be no villainous deed to taste of my nectar.”                  
     My armor rattles. “Thou art eloquent in thy speech and well versed in the art of persuasion. Yet what thou propose shall not transpire. Yet I must confess thou dost tempt my errant heart.”                  
     The sword I carry between my legs points like a steeple. “Oh but then it shall be my womanly sport to seduce you.”                  
     I hold my family jewels as though she were a robber baron set to steal them. “Be thou a lass and sweet unto mine eyes, yet it shall not come to pass.”                  
     She grasps me by my knees making me weak from desire. “But you speak too soon, for my wiles are stronger than your manly resolve.”  
     I draw up my legs with my feet dangling. “I shall foil your wanton advances as surely as the sun shall rise.” I feel her hands in my hair, advancing invincibly as the tides.                  
     My pouting lips tremble. “Please mistress, do not entice me, with thy hands soft as down.”                  
     She advances deeper into my nether regions. She nibbles my ear and licks my lips till I quiver with pleasure. “I will ravish you with sugary kisses, till you beg for more.”                  
     She has a tactical advantage on the battlefield of love. I feel myself weakening. “Have mercy upon my frail masculinity.”                  
     Her lick is like the sunlight which feeds the sprout between my legs. “Dost thou feel the burning in thy loins? Art thou succumbing to my marauding tongue? Ah, my fingers report thy arousal.”                  
     My steel plates are strewn on the ground. “I plead thou not further unfetter my venal desires.”                  
     She unfetters my trousers with her seasoned swash-unbuckler fingernails. “Ah, there now; much better.  Behold, how majestic in its sovereign might, how noble in its stature.”      
     Having my last vestige of control taken away and then that remaining power removed is beyond maddening. “Dear God, thou hast divested me of my dignity. Hast thou no shame woman? I implore thee, do not desecrate me further.”                  
     “Thou art bashful. Tis no disgrace for a man as well endowed as you to be put on display as my prize stud. Be thou assured, the course of my seduction shall not be stymied. I will pluck thy manhood like the strings of a lyre eliciting the melody of thy moans to my own delight.”                  
     I grab my codpiece and try to reattach it but my fingers tremble too much. “I shall rally my strength thou Eve of man’s downfall, temptress who beguiles me into sin. I shall not be cast into the pit of hell by thy witches spell.”                  
     She nimbly grabs my groin cup from my grasp and throws it away. “Then I shall redouble my efforts. How does it feel when I caress you down there?  Your cock confesses your craving unto me.  Oh, my knight thou art quaking.”                    
     I lay back with my legs parted like the gates of a city which has seen enough war and is ready to be ruled by a foreign queen. “My chaste resolve has melted beneath the fire of your touch. I am your plaything. Do with me as thou will.”          
     She polishes my sexcalibur with her tongue. “Your yearning yields you unto me. Come hither unto my bosom my salacious squire. Now our frolic begins in earnest.”