He always satisfies me.
Breaking zealously the chords of a hyped lust for skin sliding off, he jars my center to life, writing me the pages to a successful climb. Granted, he never instigates. he awaits my sine-flavored longing and subdues me into his accompaniment. He lies, patiently receiving and docile to the touch. I can play my 5-legged spiders over his entirety, bottle the moans I lure from his depths, to let every pair feel our night. Pulling him taut and testing his throbbing reaction, I know he is ready for my every move.
No sir, my piano never fails me.
Margaret H. Samuels, age 16
