A delicate flower in bloom

She was as delicate as a flower

But he plucked her with brutality

For he did appreciate her sensual nature

He just wanted to satisfy his needs

He treated her with rough and ready hands

She could only submit to his whims

At least that is how it seemed

But she smiled knowing she was exploiting him

But he was to brusque and arrogant 

And to ignorant to know

That as he plucked her innocence 

She was the one exerting control

Demanding more and more

Until he could take no more

Then she stood up straight stepped over him

Laying prostate and exhausted on the floor.

That was the last time she let him pluck her fragrant delicate blooms.

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