Wanna play?

What is this game we’re playing?
And why are we playing it—
for each other out-looking,
which neither dares to admit?

Oh, you silly, silly boy!
Just do come here already,
stop being phonily coy
like some kind of a neddy,

and tell me straight to my face
what you truly think of me.
Let’s end this cat-and-mouse chase
and talk it over. Can we?

Or if you wanna play games,
I can think of more fun ones,
such as sure don’t befit dames
and are unheard of by nuns.

We can play-pretend that I,
for example, am a cop
giving you a hefty fine
for speeding almost nonstop

driving on the curvy road
winding among my pillows.
Ride it until you explode
in passionate, lusty throes.

Or would you prefer playing
a doctor and his chic nurse?
Or a teacher exacting?
That I don’t have to rehearse.

Such like games I wanna play
instead of the hide-and-seek.
So, darling, what do you say?
I’d show you I’m not so meek.

I’d be anything you want.
I want to be loose and wild
with you. Hope that doesn’t daunt
you or even make you riled.

I want you to untame me.
And in between, to pass time
and gather new energy,
let’s just be fools a-sublime.

I’ll let you do my hair and
my make-up. Nails perhaps too.
’Tis part of the happy end
I’m dreaming of for us two.