Black Widow beautiful, untamable, terrifyingly calculating on wealthy men blinded by ecstasy — unaware, frighteningly vulnerable. Her tongue is a tool of magic that can easily turn the tables. The depth of primal lust for her: the unbridled desire is insatiable. Her sexual flower is extremely beautiful, wonderfully fragrant, and wet like white gardenias in morning dew. Her exquisite fucking is irresistible; her breasts are sensually supple. Sweat beads on her feminine flesh when she rides hard in the saddle. The scent of her essence is the most expensive Parisienne perfume. Her venom is most potent when she softly says, I love you. Barely after one sensual session men desperately want her to whisper, I do. So many hastily run to their own impending doom. Her heart is dark, but her ravishing smile can light up a room. Perfectly manicured feet are concealed in size 7 pointed toe heels. She is well traveled; her favorite haunt is Hotel TwentySeven in the Netherlands. Again and again she breaks even the strongest men. Instantly they are entangled in her silk web of smooth words and erotic overtures. You could make love to her wonderfully with sincere intimacy while reciting beautiful poetry of everlasting fidelity, but she would never be yours. The verses of her song are entrapment, and death is her chorus. She once loved but was betrayed of love. She once tearfully gave her all, but her heart was shattered in the chilled winds of a late and bitter fall. If you look closely one can see eyes of beauty devoid of love and empathy. Her psyche is an intricately unemotional and psychotic mystery. The art of her seduction is a master class in eroticism unattainable by the majority. She casts her spell of calming lullabies. When her husband is asleep she kisses him and whispers her final goodbyes — unleashing the terror within her. There he lies in an elaborately crafted bed adorned in a light blue satin pajama set appearing to be in deep sleep, but he is not alive. There is an updated life insurance policy on his nightstand, newly signed. He’s a seventy year old gentleman with a documented heart condition given a substance the medical examiner will never find. She stares at him in silence through lifeless eyes and smiles; then she dials three numbers with hysterical cries, weeping, screaming venomous lies.