St. Valentine in chains.

Trapped upon the bosom of inequity, I shun thoughts of cupid and his dismal frigidity. Instead, I shall ascend to Eros' bed-chamber, to embrace lust-vicariously, as it’s stranger. And make notes, to effect an engager Until, From my lofted perch, I shall spy, A fair maiden held entranced in the night sky, I shall, as an apprentice ought to, act suave, sophisticated and with fortitude, I'll suggest a tasting menu, lay down the linen, and make place for you, Once satisfied with your selection, a bold choice, your predilection. I shall summon you to dine, and reveal your phantasies intention. Shall I bring out the first course? I shall question, buttering you up with my wit, fingers, philosophy, in quick succession, "of course my slave,my climax is near attrition" I shall increase my thrusts, propelled by your enamoured-condition, until satiated you shall lay, upon cloth, exhausted and afraid, with pupils dilating, heart gyrating and an impression on your bed where I once lay.