What a Tool

 
I love the room she makes, the table’s set  
The warmth of perfumes’ gifts from bathing’s wet  
Reminds me of the baths on Summerset,  
When they would give the same gives to me.
 
How she begins, starts slow with lowered lights,  
She likes it best when she’s my only sight,  
When my eye’s trained on her, it’s her delight.  
For she can't wait to show me what can be.  
 
I feel her touch restrain with sudden thrill,  
She’s swift and firm, yet gentle first until,  
I feel those hands engage and bend my will.  
I know that soon she’ll have me openly.  
 
I love the way she wraps herself around  
My nooks and crannies, every one she’s found,  
Until so tight in her I feel I'm bound.  
It won’t be long before I pay her fee.  
 
She’s so lost now she opens wide my eye,  
I'm so far gone, she begs for my comply,  
So rushes out my gift in full supply.  
She drinks it down likes it's her evening tea.  
 
Now I lie limp atop my Master’s balls.  
In Miss’s mouth’s retreat, my taste recalls,  
My pearly drops on her within those walls.  
Perhaps tomorrow she’ll have taste for pee.