“What’s Your Fantasy?” Verse III

I wanna get you in the backseat, windows up
That’s the way you like to fuck, clogged up, fog alert
Rip the pants and rip the shirt, rough sex, make it hurt

I would like to take you in the backseat of my automobile.

We can keep the windows up, for that’s the way we like to intercourse!

The windows become clogged with the heat condensation of our lust making.

You may tear my shirt or trousers;

We shall have violent intercourse, the kind that causes physical distress.

In the garden all in the dirt

Roll around Georgia Brown, that’s the way I like it, twerk
Legs jerk, overworked, underpaid, but don’t be afraid
In the sun or up in the shade, on the top of my Escalade

In the garden, in the very dirt—we can roll around in Georgia’s dirt!
That’s the way I enjoy fornicating. Now gyrate your hinder.

Your legs quiver from being overworked by my pounding loins.

You may be “underpaid” (from being so thoroughly worked over),

But have no fear! In sun or shade,

Or on the roof of my Cadillac-brand Escalade sport utility vehicle.

Maybe your girl and my friend can trade; tag team, off the ropes!
On the ocean or in the boat! Factories or one hundred spokes!

May your cohort and mine trade sexual partners?

We shall perform a “tag team” maneuver, as seen in professional wrestling

—To further the metaphor, let us jounce off the ropes!

We can do it on the ocean or in the boat! Literally, anywhere!

We can do it in a fancy automobile with 100-spoke wire rims,

Or in a lesser automobile with factory-standard hubcaps.

What about up in the candy store, that chocolate, chocolate, make it melt
Whips and chains, handcuffs, smack a little booty up with my belt

Would you like to feel me penetrate you in the confectioner’s store,

The chocolate—chocolate, I say!—will melt under the heat of our writhings.

Or if you enjoy sadomasochism, the intercourse of whips, chain, and handcuffs,

I shall comply, and welt your backside with my leather belt.

Scream “help!”, play my game; Dracula man, I’ll get my fangs
Horseback and I’ll get my reins; school teacher, let me get my brains

In this scenario, I want you to feign a scream for help—

Play my game, submissive wench!

Or I could play the part of Bram Stoker’s Count Dracula vampire,

And use my teeth as the famous seductive biter.

Or I may have you on horseback—let me find my reins!

Finally, you could pretend my school teacher and fellate me!