My Femme Fatale

I want her more than I can say
Her cunning and deft way with words
The way she smiles when I've transgressed
And forgives the failures of my past

She is, herself, a femme fatale
Packing a new and loaded Glock
She's hardly one to tolerate
Not one of my desperate lies

She is a miracle in my bed
A sheer comfort and turn on both
She leaves me deeply satisfied
But knowing kinks that she will crave

She like threats whispered in her ear
The touch of my Magnum on her thigh
Not exactly to my fevered taste
But I swallow a plaintive sigh

She then gives in to normal sex
Dangerous foreplay now complete
She might well be the death of me
But can't complain, this life was sweet.