Red Leather

She wore red leather
From head to toe
Which subtly squeaked
As she went to and fro

It hugged her figure
And she smelt divine
That new car smell
Is a favourite of mine

That leather clad lass
In the red leather suit
Without doing anything
Could toot my flute

A poem which might best be described as mildly fetishistic rather than dirty, until the climactic final line.