Bewitched

"You bewitch well," he grinned, "you've cast a spell:
Your mound is so beguiling on black sheets,
So, squeeze your legs and feel where my hand meets
Your sweet, snug sex that enchants me so well;
A little longer: you'll bedazzle me,
As will your little cunt: the cauldron bubbles;
And you will come and sigh and all your troubles
Will be dispelled, so you will seem quite free
To ride my broomstick cursed with no panties,
And sweep the cobwebs from my wicked mind,
As you enrapture, entrance and enthral;
You've captivated me; captured the fancies
That I had held for others, but I find
You just bewitch wonderful-well withal.