The Devil Makes Work For Idle Hands

In my shower,

I have all my best thoughts,

My daydreams, my plans,

All my sexual reports.

The air is cool,

And the water is hot,

The door is locked,

Or just maybe it's not.

The steam on the mirror,

Hides my reflection,

My body hangups,

Can raise no dejection.

All that can be seen,

A female outline blurred,

And so my imagination,

Is so easily stirred.

I'm a supermodel,

Showing off my style,

Or maybe a porn star,

About to earn my pile.

I will persuade,

a thousand eyes on me,

My curves, my moves,

I am just the epitome.

And so my audience,

I can open the play,

My fingers stage,

My lovers for the day.

And what lovers,

They know just what I seek,

They are not too aggressive,

And they are not too meek.

Stroking my nipples,

Slipping down between my thighs,

Where the water is coursing,

To enter and win the prise.

My super sensitive bead,

Swollen hard as steel,

My super juicy glove,

Just loves a finger feel.

It never takes me long,

To get me very near,

Especially when I know,

There's someone that could hear.

A wave of watery dips,

Can squeak me to the edge,

Then a tiny pebble rub,

And I'm teetering on that ledge.

But what will send me over,

In shower gel fingered foam,

Pressing into my backdoor,

And having a good old roam.

I shiver, I shake,

And tingle from every drip,

And I am swept all through,

Almost to a spinning wet slip.

I just get so soaked up,

With what my body has to sell,

Offering me cheap pleasures,

To keep me returning to that well.

In my shower,

I have all my worst thoughts,

My daydreams, my plans,

All my sexual extorts.