The Massage

She looks at the clock, of course he's late
Yet when he called, he couldn't wait
Sits in his car, removes his wedding ring
Silly "man" doesn't he know that don't mean a thing
So many strangers in her life, smothered under an endless stream of men
Daily, booking appointments, as many as she can
Wife to a thousand nocturnal husbands, with the promise of the sky
She is an actress, he speaks, her lips frame in reply
Her hot scripted words, as she trims her language to fit her clients pattern
Smiling on the outside, hating on the inside, she has rent to earn
Sexually empowered women are called bitches and evil temptresses
She knows deep within her heart the value of her worth, battle of the sexes
Brazen in all her actions, the girl they only hire
Without having to give back, he selfishly undulges every desire
He kills her faith, chains her to a cross built with lust
She serves as a slave to his needs, never to trust
The root of all evil is her fuel to survive, the lie must be maintained
He wants this, she wants that, a game till the score is gained
Living with a "fuck you" attitude, she sizes up her contender
He studies her defense...mastered, outmanuevered, she must surrender
Her boundary penetrated by a male domainm exploring hands encounter no resistance
Truly a master of her craft, she focuses on her trade, willing to go the distance
Allowing her hands to massage his body with pleasure and grace
With his wits keen and intentions dirty, for him its all a race
They think she is heartless but her heart hurts quite often
After all she is human behind her mask, yet very driven
She says, "Tell me I'm pretty"
He quickly replies hoping to get busy
No need to wine and dine, you see this isn't her first time
Walking on the dust of lovers past, the huslters words a poetic rhyme
Men like him never fall in love with women like her
Her breasts and vagina are truly power
Breaking wedding vows, he proves this over the next hour