Looking in the Mirror

She looked at herself in the mirror that day
To think about how she would get her way.
She wanted to make him beg to touch
And see her, too, so awfully much.
“Repeats are good,” she thought to herself,
“I’ll be his drug to please himself
And want me all the time alone—
I’ll make his dick stay hard as bone.
I’ll go commando, that’s for sure;
My curves will make a lovely lure.”
She lifted up her top to bare
Her breasts that were so soft and fair.
She knew he liked to see her sin
By showing him her silken skin
Exposed and coyly peeping out;
The nipples, too, without a doubt.
She’d show her curves, or even more—
He never thought the view a bore.
He liked the top curves, cleavage, too,
And liked her nipples poking through
A flimsy top of silk or net
Or neckline really low, you bet!
“I’ll lean way over to play that card.”
She pinched her nipples to make them hard.
“There’s more to me than that, I think;
He really likes to touch my pink.”
She dropped her skirt and let it fall.
“I’ll spread my legs to show him all.
She spread her legs and touched her clit,
And made a gentle stroke on it.
Then stroked again both up and down,
Then made a circle, nice and round.
She gasped a little, it felt so good;
She pictured him doing it where she stood.
“He’ll be my slave when he hears me groan
I know he likes to make me moan.”
She kept up with her gentle touch.
“I’ll make him do this very much
Until I come and grab his dick
To make sure it is round and thick,
Then I’ll put him in my willing hole
And make him come and bless his soul.”