And so it begins, this tale of woe,
As a howling wind began to blow.
She brushed her hair one last time,
And set about her perfect crime.

Anticipating the sound of key in lock.
She glanced herself whilst taking stock.
She could not help but stop and admire,
Her provocative sensual ****** attire.

Black matching lace expensive Lingerie,
Purchased especially from town that day.
She carefully rolled her stockings on.
Any sense of guilt had all but gone.

Placing her feet in her killer red heels.
Reminiscing how he liked how they feel.
Consoling herself as the widow Ms Carter,
As she hid the capsule in her French garter

In the kitchen now the lights are dim,
And the candles flicker, flicker for him.
She hears the sound of his key in the door,
As she prepares the meal, a meal to die for.