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Words dripping off his tongue like syrupy sweet

Suffocating my breath

Sticking to my feet

Fondling my spirit to the point of constriction

Inhaling his scent to

The point of addiction

Feeling my female rise

From cold to boil

His skin like the slickest Johnson’s baby oil

Caramelizing in a puddle before my presence

Oooooh lord, I need reinforcements

Sugary thoughts sweep over me

Like some Victoria Secrets Peaches and Cream

While he’s standing here sharp as a tact

Jeans fitting loosely, sagging in the back

Standing tall like a glass of chocolate milk

Like the smoothest imported Italian silk

Standing silently

Cat got my tongue

No his tongue got my cat

Thinkin’ ain’t nothing wrong with that

He’s speaking slowly, seductively rhyming

His words hypnotically intertwining

Only if he knew I wasn’t hearing a word he said

Visions of satin sheets on my canopy bed

Stop, how you goin’ to be a hoe in your own daydream

"Shut up conscious"

Thinking of massaging cream

Down and up, Up and down

My back

Shoulder blade, collar bone

Bone, screw, sex, lay

It’s a shame he has no idea I’m thinking this way

Nodding and grinning at the exact moment that he probes a question

Feeling solely in the midst of this female congestion

Like I am the only woman he sees

Oh, I hope he doesn’t think I’m trying to be a tease

Cuz, that is the last thing I want to be

Right now I could go for setting that Polo shirt free

Free from all inhibitions

For this man I’d go on a mission

Even if it meant being lost in his g-string nights and days of rap studios

Like one of them stank hoochie videos

It’s sad to think it wouldn’t matter if afterwards he couldn’t recall my name

As long as I could call his name over and over again

Damn, the price of fame