MAINTENANCE MAN AGENCY, INC.

The Maintenance Man Agency is no more

Like a private dick of old, I’m closing these doors
Time to hang up my tools of the trade
Dildos, Whips, ‘Cuffs, Blindfolds, Wax, Buttplugs
Amongst many other pleasuring sordid sexual wares
Seems the game hast vastly changed
Can’t afford the emotional attachments. . . wasn't part of the deal
Since when did sex equate to love. . . sigh

Hung on my wall, a favorite military mantra
Feed ‘em, Fuck ‘em, Forget ‘em
Chuckling at an old head’s advice from long ago
I recalled looking at him like he was nuts recounting his stories
“Heed my words young buck; No more, no less!”
“Remember, for you it’s just a fuck”
“Get in, get out; else you’ll soon run out of luck”
“When you hear the word love or any semblance there of. . .”
“Best time you cut the ties, and fade out of sight”

Well guess what, I too, have had similar sexual battle lore
Let’s see, from nails dug deep in my flesh. . . to
Rope burns, rug burns, bite marks . . . don’t ask
Even got one from a bullet wound. . . fortunately it just grazed me
Result of being stalked by a lesbian’s lover no less
Accused me of turning her gurl out. . . smirking, I confess doing her, too!!

Many a horny freakettes given “maintenance” over the years
Role playing, “Greeking,” Light S&M, Exhibitionism, Foodplay
Let’s just say they dabbled, I delved. . . broke in many a filly
Yeah, wast no shame in my game. . . it’s a wonder I’m still alive
Picking up my lil’ black book, toss it in the box

As I’m about to step out, the phone rings
Caller ID says Ms. Freak Galore. . .
Tempted to pick up, but instead let it go to voicemail
Walking out, I hear the answering service reply
“Ladies, this number’s no longer in service”
And a soft sultry voice cries. . . “But I need my weekly maintenance fix”
Tipping my hat in deference, ‘Sorry my, dear. . . Sorry'
Turning out lights, close the door behind me