Wicked Leather
by Jim Lawson
Do those boots know how to play?
When you walked into the club tonight (a vision in leather) all eyes were on you. I have to admit I was impressed. So you traded your PRIDE beads in for a leather harness and whip? You have definitely bought the look. A leatherman from head to toe. Police hat and custom fitted leather shirt; those leather pants must have been tailored to your body weight today, because if you gain even one pound they will not fit. Yes, you have spared no expense.
I have one question for you though. Do those boots know how to play?
The armband is on the correct arm. You have studied your hanky codes. The membership to the gym is paying off I must say, but do those boots know how to play?
You make your way through the crowd, a wink here, handshake there and a friendly grope for Ray. I want to know...do the boots know how to play?
Here you come. Your eyes find mine, but you have nothing to say. I am dying to know if the boots know how to play.
You disappear for awhile, then you are back. It's time for a cocktail. One more look, damn...please tell me, do those boots know how to play?
When I turn around to say hello, looks like I am too late, once again it's Ray.
Frustrated and disappointed that I will never know....I walk away.
I feel a hand on my shoulder. To my surprise it's you. As if reading my mind, you say:
"Hey baby, can we get out of here? These boots wanna play!