The subtle sounds of your sleeping breath
offer purring to the ears:
like a Rolls Royce Silver phantom at idle
The graceful lines of your neck flow
like a hi-rise intake manifold
sweeping down to a pair of HOLLY double pumpers.
And your breasts, your breasts strike me like the chrome front bumper
of a 57 Cadillac ....... complete with rubber tips.
The delectable curves of your Derriere
remind me of the sleek graceful quarter panels
of a 58 Jaguar sedan, a classic if there ever was one.
Your Passionate growls when we make love
spark me up like hot squealing tires
pushed to the melting point
by the thundering power of a 427 Cobra Jet
lightin up a Saturday night like a comet! 
Those hips of yours fit my hands
like a leather covered GT steering wheel
and make me want to grab a hold,
shove the accelerator
ALL the way into the floor board
and hold on for dear life!
All of this to say .... 

Woman, you are one mean machine

and BABY, CAN I DRIVE YOUR CAR?