Top of the Stair
by Peter Loaf
Afternoon napping, suburban wife
House full of treasures, comfortable life
Neighbor’s dog barking
No-one’s remarking
The deck door jimmied, man with a knife
The sleeping beauty, safe in her place
Trophy wife naked, pillow on face
In panic waking
Intruder taking
Her lungs depriving, her heartbeats race
Passing from knowing, slumping defeat
Her eyes he’s taping, darkness complete
Her lips he’s sealing
Her things he’s stealing
Left on her bedspread, a hogtied treat
Left on her lonesome, wiggle and strain
Nowhere she getting, her fevered brain
High wide and hogtied
So ready to ride
Fighting her bondage, nothing to gain
Treasures collected, scene of the crime
Her muffled humming, the scene sublime
Her body thrashing
Her systems crashing
His hands come questing, her body prime
Finding her nipples, tightened in fear
Pinching them gently, his unseen leer
Her pussy dripping
His fingers dipping
Rolling her over, pulling her near
His organ throbbing, unzipping sound
Her pussy swollen, stretching around
He’s thrusting it deep
His bondage will keep
Hung like a pony, cervix to pound
Passion comes crashin’, she has no say
Screaming and creaming, horny display
Resistance buckles
Her pussy suckles
Hogtied and helpless, mighty fine lay
Then when he’s finished, his seed well sewn
Her pussy dripping, left all alone
His loot collected
She’s unprotected
Her body burning, nipples in cone
Struggles in panic, fall from the bed
Inching to hallway, her vision red
To top of the stair
He’s waiting right there
Hubby discovers, fantasies fed