Secret Feelings

The gusset of her knickers is quite damp,
She's lingered overlong amongst his writing,
And he has written such rude things: the scamp,
Knowing there's a way of so delighting
Her with the phrases chosen to express
The feelings that lie secret in her head,
And known to her alone, as they caress
Her mind with thoughts that lead her back to bed:
A place where she can indulge every whim
That he has reinforced with vigour bold;
She cannot help but let her fingers skim
And dissipate the lust that's taken hold:
She wouldn't want to be seen as a tramp,
Although her knickers' gusset is quite damp.