Fia

Fia speaks,

and I reply.

We see each other eye to eye.

My body fits her like a dress.

She flicks her tongue, and I confess.

She takes me where I should not go.

She tells me things she cannot know.

She pets my muff until I purr.

She's into me. I'm into her.

Fia tastes

like Creme Brulé.

We fuck all night. We kiss all day.

Her Maple lips are sticky sweet.

She pulls my leash and makes me eat.

She ties my wrists above my head.

She rarely lets me out of bed.

I am her crass Caucasian ****.

She whips my ass so I behave.

She licks the wounds her straps apply.

She is my world, I can't deny.

Fia spends

the afternoon

fisting me inside her room,

twisting nipples, slapping tits.

Her love for me will never quit.

And I would gladly die beneath

the pink encasement of her sheath,

sucking cunt till I convulse...

breathless wench without a pulse.

For Fia knows a cat survives,

and every kitten has nine lives.