Ant Smith

All poems

Plaything

I’m happy to be your plaything
I am your sex toy
It doesn’t demean me
Well it does, but I don’t mind

I love those Psycho moments
When I’m in the shower
Things get slippery underfoot
At your soapy touch

Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your toy
Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your toy

You raise me every morning
In your special way
Sometimes I find I’m bound and gagged
And I can’t get away
I admire your expertise
With that thing you hold
If you were a pole dancer
I’d be your pole

Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your toy
Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your toy

I love your naked skipping
You jiggle like a whore
You leave me here sweating
And panting out for more
Panting, panting, panting, panting,
Panting out for more

Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your toy
Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your toy

I love your dirty looks
And push-up bra
There’s more to you than
Meets the eye
Of those men you taunt
There’s a piece of me you enrage
When I see you flaunt
They may pump your tyres up
But I will ride you home.

Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your toy
Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your boy