She was Siren, a pricktease
who knew how to please,
a temptress in provacative dress
inviting intimate caress.
She was an ice-queen
'treat them mean
keep them keen',
let them dream
of soft warm spaces
and exotic hiding places,
deep moist chasms
and mindblowing orgasms.
Kept them fighting with the rest
for a glimpse of soft bare breast,
a flash of nymphlike leg,
brought them to their knees to beg.
Kept them knocking at the door
bearing gifts, wanting more
than a fumble on the floor
that rocked their inner core
spent but not fulfilled,
their passion overspilled
and lost in denim threads.
She avoided all their beds
full of promises unsaid,
preferred messing with their heads.
She was Siren, she knew how to please
mistress of the art of pricktease
at only seventeen, kept them keen,
treated them mean, let them dream.