I was the cure for your lust, as your taste buds longed to lick off the sugar coating on my body.
My sanctuary was home to your regular short visits. What do you know about me except the colours of my pants?
You were insatiable. Oliver Twist, you always asked for more. More than I could ever offer.
My picture of you is the back of your head leaving the door at dawn after you’ve feasted on my body like a carnivore leaving my carcass behind despoiled and vulnerable.
You were skillful—Maradona
Always had a way of getting in between my legs.
You had the password of my body, had the master key to my soul.
How could I have resisted? For I shall always fall for your subterfuge.