Babe too hot to handle

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 You dial my number, I pick up the phone.

You ask what I’m wearing, in a husky nervous tone.

I reply thigh high boots and thong,

You breathe deeper, I reply not for long.

You tell me you have a fetish, one for leather.

And if I were with you, you’d want me to arouse you with a feather.

You ask for my prices and ask what services I provide,

I repeat whatever you like my love, let your heart be the guide.

You tell me you want me to pole dance and sit on your lap,

I answer that is my occupation, come and see me sometime, you don’t need a map.

I dance at club ‘Angels’ and go by the name of Michelle,

If you buy me a drink, I will not kiss and tell.

I ask how you found my number, so I can trace where you’re from,

You place down the receiver, there you were, gone.

This mystery man I was beginning to know,

Never came to the club, and never did show.

© Copyrighted 2014 to Lorraine Barber

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