She covers herself in colored silk; night clothes soft and fine,
She wears the wedding ring I bought and says she’s truly mine.
But she isn’t always with me; her presence not always kind.
The wild woman I married? Absent in this space and time.

Although she's the woman here right now, her eyes I don't recognize,
She's contemplating tasks and deeds; a quilt covers her thighs.
She utters words, sharp in tone, I stand as a child chastised,
My wild woman has disappeared 'n a matron materialized.

And yet, I know where my wild woman dwells,
When she uncrosses her knees; unleashes her spells,
A devilish look; a wrinkle of her nose,
My wild woman appears, the woman I chose.

She's a demoness in bed at night; I'm ever mesmerized,
The matron’s gone, her knees open up, her legs spread out wide,
There's wickedness in her speaking, as I tongue within her thighs,
She utters words, so feral in tone, so crudely verbalized.

“Lick me like a Frenchman! Eat me like a whore!
And when you think I’ve had enough, I’ll be wantin’ more!
Lick me like a Frenchman! Suck it like a dick!
Eat my hot sweet pussy and suck my goddamn clit!”

My wild woman has taken control! My cock is fossilized!
Consumed in lust, filled with seed, I rise to vandalize.
“Lick me like a Frenchman! Did you not hear what I just said?”
She grabs me by the hair ‘n shoves her pussy 'gainst my head.

I have no choice. There’s nothing else. She’s now a woman wild.
I lick her pussy as a paid-for man, so eager to be defiled.
She looks at me with empathy, then begets a too cruel smile,
My sexual need is ignored as if a red-haired stepchild.

So I lick, I purl, I suck ‘n swirl, her swollen womanly clit.
She writhes ‘n moans, 'n I adore her tone as I berry-flick.
I lick her like a Frenchman would lick his mistress whore.
Her fingers clench, her eyes roll back, 'n her voice calls out for “More!”

Her hips buck against my lips, her fingers pull my hair,
I need to breathe; I'll faint soon; I’ve got to have some air,
I suck, I gasp; then liquid spurts, wetness everywhere,
Her pussy's locked upon my face; I’m not going anywhere.

I know where my wild woman dwells,
Beneath the sheets of flowered pastels,
With gasps and moans, and lewd decibels,
I lick the place where my wild woman dwells!

Her eyes defocus, she begins to smile, her climax is worth my while,
Her nipples taut, her labia molten, her eyes convey words unspoken,
“C' mere," she signals, beckoning a kiss; I rise, as ever, helpless to resist.
Exchanging tongues and mixing spit, she tells me I am not dismissed.

"Your job's not done with just your tongue," her words take a tone.
"I'll be having some of your cock. Fuck me to the bone!"
With a mischievous grin, I drive within, until my tip is stopped,
Her heels arise, point to the skies; I ensure she's fully cocked.

I know where my wild woman dwells,
Midst sumptuous thighs, fiery gates of Hell,
Her moaning gives away her tell, precursor to orgasmic knell,
Her panting grows in rising swells, animal sounds in sheets pastel!

"Prick me quick within my slit; I want my ecstasy!
"Fuck me as a sailor would, returning from the Sea!
"Fuck my pussy! Use that dick! Fuck me harder 'n make it quick!"
I thrust, I fuck, I lover-slap her tits; ‘n she accepts all of it.

She grabs my ass, pulls me deep, 'n demands to be impressed,
Her nails scrape my muscled flanks to encourage my Gilgamesh.
I love this woman with all my heart; I know I am so blessed.
I grind. I push. I give my all… and suck a hickey upon her breast.

She contracts her pussy on my cock; I've got a key to open that lock,
My finger finds her anal home; an octave higher, her new tone,
Her body spasms repeatedly; I cream my wife, ejecting my seed.
I cum, I spurt; I shoot my wad, and then cry out, "Oh! My! God!"

We die a little in each other's arms, pleased with each other's charms.
We huff and puff to catch our breath; sweaty love is always best.
We cuddle and coo, giggle and smile; she's feeling completely spiled.
She's made the change and now's become my lovely woman mild.

She's the mild woman here right now, her eyes I recognize,
Her legs are open, ‘n her pussy's wet, as I lay between her thighs.
She softly speaks, gentle in tone, our heartbeats rhapsodize.
The woman I married has returned; a love revitalized.

The matron who sometimes appears to critique my very soul,
Stripping me of my manliness, challenging my self-control,
Who changes into woman wild, demanding sexual deeds,
She becomes a woman mild with loving human needs.

I love my wild woman with her carnal thoughts and deeds,
She’s the one I married, who takes care of all my needs.
I accept the matron in my life, though she makes my journey Hell,
Provided I will always find that place my wild woman dwells.