by Peter Loaf
Hubby too busy, making the bread .
Lifestyle expensive, our tastes well fed
Sometimes I push him
Play on the cushion
Our love life boring, dead in the bed
I try to tease him, tickle his cheek
His work he’s doing, fucking I seek
His anger rising
His smile I’m prizing
Our game of chicken, one night a week
At last he’s sighing, saving his work
I tremble slightly, up from the murk
My hind brain slithers
My body shivers
My nipples aching, I see him smirk
Hot little wifey, doesn’t behave
To playroom taken, the dirty knave
The stand stands waiting
Its nickel plating
Time out proclaiming, impatient slave
Shackles click trapping, elbows and wrists
The stanchion holding, my lips are kissed
Clamping my collar
Stretching me taller
My ankles clamping, clenching my fists
His fingers fumble, corset hooking
The laces tightened, hot stuff cooking
Some powder applied
I’m itching inside
Hubby too busy, from playroom booking
Left on my lonesome, wetting my pants
On stanchion dancing, haven’t a chance
Can’t wiggle or pout
Too soundproof to shout
My pussy needs reaming, motionless dance
Time out I’m waiting, horny and hot
My Hubby’s training, the toughest spot
The game I’m losing
My juices oozing
My pussy’s last stand, my chances shot
Well after midnight, hubby returns
My will is broken, my tummy churns
My Hubby chuckles
My nipple suckles
Pinching my clitty, until it burns
Leg clamps releasing, spreading my thighs
Organ up standing, surprising size
Hanging from collar
Choking I holler
Puppet strung subbie, winning my prize
