You say you love the feel of my panties on your face.

Your fingers on my satin. Your tongue on my lace.

My warm, sweet fragrance filling your mind

Is why you come back time after time.

You see my panties in every shade–

Red, white, pink, black, lavender, jade.

The blue granny panties and the leopard print thong.

That tiny black g-string that kept you hard all night long.

You see my panties everywhere you look–

Every drawer, every corner, every cranny, every nook.

You see my panties in your dreams at night,

Thrilling and delighting your inner sight.

You speak of my panties to everyone you see–

Your preacher, your mama, the guy on TV.

But as much as I love you, I’m doubting your sanity.

Because, baby, really, I don’t wear panties.


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