The Coquette’s Curse
By Stanley Collymore
You would like for us to get married, you say. What an
uncanny and utterly preposterous idea! And by the
way, what brought that crazy notion on? As it
couldn’t be anything I’ve said to you or
encouragingly have done; for you
know me well enough to fully
concede that I always deal
with realities not flights
of delusional fantasy.
Besides, what’s in it for me? For evidently you’ve no class,
social status, no background to speak of or any pedigree
that’s worth tuppance to me; and speaking of money
you’ve none to shout about as without a doubt you’re the
very epitome of reckless impecuniosity: a spendthrift who
embarrassingly relies quite heavily on me to always
bale you out financially. Furthermore, you’ve
nothing in this earthly life that credibly or even
remotely would make me consider you to
be an asset societally let alone seriously
tempt me to ever become your wife.
And when it comes to crucial matters of cultural enlightenment like
for instance basic education, yours isn’t the kind of situation I could
flatteringly or even boastfully casually bring up in polite conversation,
or without total mortification to me or fear of the consternation and
likely alienation that it would bring from those who I favourably
regard as friends or hobnob with in high society ever disclose
to them the full extent of this unorthodox relationship that
clandestinely but sensibly exists between you and me.
But undeniably you have your uses as we both well know;
for among the sheets you’re an indomitable livewire
and veritable dynamo. A fearless tiger on the prowl;
a man inexorably and completely possessed and
whose consummate zest cheek by jowl
easily unlocks, ravishingly stokes,
tormentently sustains and gratifyingly
sates the carnal passion in me, driving
me on amidst the indulgent atmosphere
of my unbridled lechery to
indescribable heights of
stratospheric ecstasy; as audaciously, dexterously
knowledgeably, quite diligently and with aplomb you
plunge yourself endlessly deeper and indomitably
into the swirling waters of my feminine dam.
Where spiritedly from within their aqueous embrace
and my impassioned ardour afire with an agonizingly and
wholly uncontrollable, pent-up lust; you oh so delightfully in
ferocious forays release apace the contents therein in a frenzied,
maddening and unstoppable rush! A customary, interminably
lascivious onslaught that deranges and quite literally
defencelessly tears me apart; and with my whole body
convulsively vibrating like a well-hammered drum it’s easy to
discern even in the midst of the enervating haze of my pleasurable
exploitation, which I most willingly and wholeheartedly support,
to amusingly appreciate and fully understand why in France
this thoroughly surreal and near death experience that you
habitually, efficiently and pitilessly provoke in me
attracts the apposite sobriquet of la petite mort.
But sex on its own however appealing or satisfying it
might be, and your delivery of it is undeniably the
best I’ll readily agree, just isn’t enough, I must
truthfully confess, to induce someone
like me, regardless of how disposed
I am to you sexually, to wantonly
divest myself of all commonsense,
social propriety or worst still my sanity
by gratuitously getting hitched to what basically is
a nobody; who furthermore, and let’s openly face facts,
is acceleratedly going nowhere fast, and we both know that!
And were I to foolishly yield to what you’re entreatingly demanding
of me know for certain that it would undeniably put me in the most
compromising of positions, creating an intolerable situation that
in itself would be suffocatingly wrong and also categorically
make me the laughing stock of everyone. So while I’m most happy to
have you as my bit on the side and uncomplainingly at anytime that you
wish provide you with those mouth-watering rides that deliver such
euphoric bliss to me, let’s be practical about this and stick firmly
with sex which is infinitely more appropriate for you and me,
and permanently forget all idealistic thoughts of matrimony.
© Stanley V. Collymore
21 February 2013.
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