Three hundred bucks, is her asking price,
Knowing myself, I never think twice.

She's to me, worth every single dime,
Though technically a severe crime.

Im not an awful fella alright,
Only hooked on women of the night.

I want to give my dangerous innocence
to your eyes
twist your desire
to my darkness
turn you into my favorite monster
and let you off your leash

I could write erotica
Words flushed with heat
And lust
A bare trace of plot
Sliding through the lines
like soft skin on silk sheets.

I could paint pictures
with sultry poses,
long limbs entwined in a battle of flesh,
pictures to bring a tingle,
a shiver dancing across your skin.

I could whisper salacious stories
with my lips just above your ear,
hot breath and a teasing lilt,
testing the boundaries of self-control.

I could pass along this poem,
lay forth my cards,
exposed provocatively on the table,
making my intentions known.