Loyalty binds me so say I,
It defines me and guides me in everything I try.
So what is left of me if I were to stray?
How could I live with myself every day?

Any yet I find myself constantly tempted
and it’s not by the thunderbolt for whom I melted.
No, it’s every fine lady that I come to meet,
of every age, colour and creed.

My desires become nightmares as I dare to dream,
about each and every princess that makes me beam.

The first was Dutch with a thing for the sea.
Her voice so seductive I was desperate to be free.
To wine her and dine her and be the one she needs,
to end her sadness and make love to me.

The second blossomed quickly, we were good for each other.
I made her laugh, she fuelled lust for another.
Those “come get me” hips and caramel thighs,
offering me an exotic Southern surprise.
Guilty we felt for that time in the shower,
but oh so good, behind her with such power.

We both let go and may succumb once more
forgetting ourselves on the kitchen floor.

And then there’s the Kiwi, a beauty to see,
kind and passionate and more articulate than me.

Easy to talk to and sexy to boot,
I’d love to greet her in my snazzy new suit,
grab her long hair and give her fella the boot!

To hold her down and move wildly in tandem,
to hear her moan freely in gay abandon.

And not forgetting my colleague so sweet,
Oh what we could do in that penthouse suite.
The ball gown ripped down over her shoulder
whilst “he” stands to attention like an obedient soldier.

The more I think about it the worse it gets.
All I can think about is sex, sex, sex.

Hardly the actions of a loyal and trusted man.
How could I be thinking of a one night stand?
More the actions of every other lad,
lustful, selfish and darn right bad.

I thought I was better and was solid as a tree.
But I’m just like the rest now, at forty three.
Don’t judge me too harshly I did try you see
but loyalty’s tough when you’re old and horny!