her demure facade. her polite smiles.
her vulnerable side. her elegant nature.

of the divine perfection,
the divine creation of the female genocide.

"your special," she whispered
and she left me thinking i was special.
that i was in control,
it made me want to please her,
it made me give in,
it made me work harder, faster, stronger.
she spread her legs wide open,
she parted her lips wide open,
she dilated.

she pulled me in, like a magnetic force.
i was attracted and she pulled me in,
and i had no where to hide or run.
i was, trapped
and i was forced to surrender.

she let me in, that's the real problem.
my manhood could be abnormally big,
and she would still have the strength

her kisses, where more than just pecks.
her touch, was more than just fiddling.
her skin, was more than just soft.
her breasts, were more than just supple.
her lips, were more than just luscious.
her other lips, left me breathless.

her expensive and fashionable clothes,
looked best where they landed.

she licked me, with a flick of her sensuous tongue.
she kissed me, with a part of her luscious lips.
she fucked me, with a twist of her lustful body.

but at the end of the night,
at the end of all these,
it leaves me thinking.

if it created such a beautiful illusion.