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Click hereShe'd never met the man before alone,
Her mother, friend or sister would come too,
If he disliked each frowning chaperone,
They were defence against a reckless woo.
But now she was alone, he saw his chance:
Regaling her with his seductive tones,
He charmed her with each tacit, loving glance,
Passing her sweet jam for her warm scones.
A tea-shop was a safe place, so she thought,
Dainty with her knife, she sliced her bun,
It was romantic for him so to court:
Lascivious, quite rewarding, rather fun.
If he would only stop seeking responses,
She could devour more of that buttered toast;
And if his love talk warmed his inner fire,
Blueberry muffins really pleased her most.
He dreamed of gliding hands between her knees,
Caressing her until her belly knotted,
She would be creamy putty, whispering:"please,"
The only cream she wanted was well clotted.
He would, impassioned, pull her by the thighs,
Before the coterie, he'd surely dare,
To have her open up his well-zipped flies,
But she preferred a chocolate eclair.
Surrounded by the debris on her plate,
She looked and saw him gazing with distaste
The scattered crumbs, she tried reinstate,
To make a final filler for her waist.
Their appetites could not be reconciled
Though they both desired satiation,
His sexual aspirations were defiled,
By this indulgent teatime assignation.
Without a chaperone, she'd had her fill,
Like empty teapots, she had drained his love,
He disliked every item on the bill:
Of reckless wooing, he had had enough.