Why are you here?

Back to gloat?

Your teasing

More cruel than any whip.

You mortify with hot tales

Of your delectable body

Writhing under the fondling

Of hot lustful hands.

You, squirming,

As countless cocks

Impale you into

The screaming, moaning rapture

That I once knew.

Am I right?

You remain, tongue-tied

Yet, you undo your dress

Naked beneath

To let me know

Just why you’ve come back.

Should I succumb?

God, yes, yes, yes

I’m an angry wasp

At an open pot of jam