Sex on the brain

Sex on the brain
  
Someone called me a LUSTAMANIAC I've got sex always on the brain, is it because I'm paralyzed, is that what fuels my rhyming train  
   
Laying here in my bed at night, no movement down below, left with just great memories but my desires still burn quite slow  
   
I still have such sexual needs, even though I'm only half a man, so I put things down on parchment, the only way I can  
   
I write out my fantasies, of sex, lust, perversions and desire, I send them out into the world, to hopefully stoke your fire  
   
Give you that feeling, to help you grow your need, make you have a fantasy, I hope my words succeed    
   
Do you touch your happy place, a place I cannot reach, do you follow instructions, can you my poems teach  
   
Circles on your cliterus, a sneaky finger in your bum, a story of you being forced or tied up, will  make you cum  
   
Are my words turning you on, like you fucking in a car, am I bringing you to orgasm, is this a wish to far  
   
My words are sent to make you squirm, to get out your favourite toy, push him deep in moist wet lips, dream of your special boy  
   
All these things come from my brain, does sex just fill my head, or is it a way of still fucking, whilst laying in my bed  
   
Ron