Thirst Trap

His cinnamon-tanned chests are bagels to taste. He knows to pop little cherries and put gals into place. His shredded-flexed arms are as mighty as the Ancient Greek God. The winsome wimps wistfully hope; they are awed. His lips are quite scheming; they call for a feast. As they start to act not humanlike, they turn into beasts. Only your eyes can describe how good-chiseled he is. A single drool from your mouth can never give you bliss. “Oh, you can look but you can’t touch!” But you’re just one of those hundreds under Charlie’s clutch.