Chub - Her Serf

I am easy going,
but my clit is as variable
and haughty
as a tiny little
aristocrat.

Persnickety.
Sensitive.
Emotional.
She resists.
Plays coy.
Is distrustful.
Sometimes flirtatious.
When her trust is won
she throws off her gown
and spreads her thighs wide and smears herself
lasciviously
with honey
She begs for use,
swollen ripe as fruit.

She lifts for touch,
reaches
yearns
explodes.
She grips a hold
of the whole of myself
and pours the very center of
my soul
through
my spasoming cunt.

We are my clits serfs,
smitten,
my pussy and I.

My clit comes forward,
she retreats.
She has bachial feasts
where she is willing and dances forever
until I am weeping with exhaustion.

She can be shy
and reluctant
like a youngest daughter headed soon
to live in service to the church,
fickle, unwilling, reluctant.

I cannot bribe her with gifts,
only approach her sweetly
my hat in hand,
her variable
suitor
waiting on the couch with hopeful eyes.