Delilah: Samson! Why do you imprison my love in the dungeon of mistrust?
The hypnotism of my succulent breasts, and the soothing soft feel
of my moist lips, your stolid heart betrays.
You really do have the strength of a God, but even a God is subject
to the mind blowing caresses of a goddess. Prove your love to me by
submitting to just this nagging request, and our much anticipated wedlock
which you very much desire will be certain.
Samson: Your words turn me on as much as the moist feel of your honey gate. How
could I ever resist thee Delilah? Certainly at your behest, I bequeath my
awesome and divine strength.
Delilah: Then rest your troubled head on the comfort of my massaging hands, and see
that there never was nor can ever be, a warm resting place for your wearied head
like these lovely hands of mine designed like a pillow fit for a Prince.