'My Juliet' Part 3 Outline (Revised; Final)

3:10

Poet's learned exactly what she needs,

And just how far to escalate, until

Her pleasure's hit the peak -- he then exceeds

Just enough to boil, but not to spill.

He's fostered, in her bliss, a sort of tantra;

Turning it up slowly, like a dial --

'Just a litte more' his chosen mantra,

Driving her to shrieking, with a smile.

All the while, he whispers in her ear,

Reminding her: to him he'll e'er belong,

Protected and well pleased, his Juliet dear,

Coaxing her orgasm, fierce and strong.

And as her screaming drives him ever stiff,

Together they tip o'er passion's cliff.

----

3 :11

The two experiment with many things;

Cuffs and blindfolds, outfits and role play,

Months of tuning all their sexual strings,

Achieving better harmony every day.

The cardinal rules (and roles) always remain;

Poet is the 'Dom', and she submits --

They reinforce this, o'er and o'er again,

The raw, unbridled want -- it never quits.

Yet love through their adventure permeates,

A mutual admiration and respect;

Their need for true affection ne'er abates,

A comfort to which no one would object.

So perfectly their passions coalesce;

We could dwell longer here - but I digress.

----

3:12

She travels to her office, newly born:

Her confidence and prowess well-restored,

Heads turn as she walks by, attentions torn,

Though all of their advances she's ignored.

She's become a very different girl

Than the nervous one she used to be.

Her time with Poet's caused her to unfurl,

Blossoming in full, for all to see.

Always smiling, genuine and pure,

Her happiness and light doth day imbue,

'Tis more than most men easily endure,

But those who fail, learn quickly: 'not for you'.

For though immune to all who set their sights,

One text from Poet, and her flame ignites.

----

3:13

Every word he says weakens her knees,

Whether through her phone or face to face,

Such a lovely thing, his need to tease,

With but a word, she's stuck -- frozen in place.

Because he'd ne'er abuse or compromise

Her livelihood, her safety or her trust,

She obeys with pleased, determined eyes

Everything requested, for she must.

Every working interaction scripted,

So as to stay detached, but e'er polite;

Every compliment gently evicted,

Until she finally arrives home at night.

Once in the door, her master's name she'll call,

Whereupon she's pinned, gasping, to the wall.

3:14

He pleases her in ways she can't describe,

Stripping her until her skin is bare,

His hands and lips so gleefully imbibe,

Until she begs him take her standing there.

Often this is how her workday ends,

At the wall, or couch, or kitchen floor,

Insatiably, hungrily, he attends

To her every pent up need, and more.

Afterward, they do their couply stuff,

Go for walks, go shopping, see a show,

And once they both decide they've had enough,

They head for home, to bathe in passion's glow.

The perfect couple, it would rightly seem,

Holding hands, their faces so agleam.

3:15

For Poet, this is all a dream made real;

The perfect woman, grateful to be his,

Beauty, cleverness and sex appeal,

She's taught him how to realize who he is.

Thinking backward, to his former self,

Alone and undervalued, made to grunt

His way through life, always on the shelf,

Never seen as more than bleating runt.

Poet's not the man he was before.

He's well respected, well fed, free of debt;

He doesn't need to struggle anymore,

And owes most all of that to Juliet.

His heart brims over when he thinks of her,

Especially when he hears her lovely purr.

3 : 16

A year or so has passed -- how quick it flies

When in the wake of lovers' copulation;

She rises first, as next to her he lies,

And lets him sleep (as is her usual fashion)...

She leaves a hasty note, in the event

His need for her awakens, and he comes

Claiming her attention, e'er unspent

(At the thought of that, desire thrums)...

And out the door, to do the morning run

(Just as she has countless times before),

Smiling as she greets the rising sun,

Filled to brim with love for troubador...

By all accounts, a fairly average day,

Sadly, though, it didn't end that way.

----

- © Jackson Cambridge, 2016.