The Finest Thirty Year Old Brandy

Though many desire her, she's all mine, tightly bottled to make her wanton, and oh so breathless
Kept in my "cellar", protected from sunlight, other prying eyes

Made from the sweetest southern grapes, I perfected her
Crushed beneath my leather boot, brutal loving discipline

Locked in the winerack, she awaits me, longing to be unleashed
I savor her nightly, set her ablaze with hot candle wax, and chill her, ice cube caresses

Her flower, bouquet is pungent, intoxicating on its own
But her nectar is ambrosia most rare, sticky and feminine

As she splashes my lips, bedews them, she shudders, gasps
Knowing what I have planned for her, my damsel in distress

Hours of balancing on the shelf, being poured out just for me
Doing my bidding, enduring my evil desires, with longing eyes downcast

So, I swirl her around the glass, watch her drip down from the rim
Adore her color, golden flax, pure like summer sunlight

Her innocence ignites my dominance, inspires wicked deeds
Making me want to seize a hank of her, drive her to her knees

Then I take a gulp, drink her in, fill my mouth overflowing
Quaff her like the drunken sadist that I am, craving just one more drink

Finally, the games are over, the session ends, once more
Taking a cork I'll seal her, silence my brandy till I thirst again