I ponder sometimes frequently about your sexual fantasies,
And hope that it’s not rude to wonder whom you include.
Then I begin to hope that perhaps I’m the lucky dope.
Am I the one who never knew I was the one you wished ‘to do’?
To be the one would be a joy even if I were a moment’s toy,
A man for your fantasy night, who stayed until the dawn’s first light,
A man who left you satisfied and bed you as a honeymoon bride.

But then I begin to think what fantasy brings you to the brink
Of sexual human ecstasy, just this one man or maybe three?
Perhaps you often ken… sex with multiple men?
Then I think upon it again, and perhaps you like your men
Dressed in loving latex while you play the Dominatrix.
What types of sexual wandering have you even been pondering?
Am I to receive a lashing for the looks that I’ve been flashing
Towards other women who wish to do the same with me as you ?

But then I realize by the look within your eyes
That this evening’s passion is consumed in the Italian fashion
As you costume me for fantasy like 14th century Italy,
You make a beautiful Juliet and I a Romeo , and yet…..
My fear is that our drunken lay will be a drink the Shakespearian way.

So now I ponder infrequently about your sexual fantasies;
My mind can never shade the scary fantasies of you I’ve made.
I am so overcome with fright if I think of you at night
 I wonder if I’ll scream when you enter in my dream.
But if you bring me drink and candy whenever you are randy,
(And though I will always fear having you in bed, my dear)
You may kiss me till I swoon and rid my thoughts of doom
And I, as I implied, I will bed you as my honeymoon bride.