Shoved Prober

Shove them please and wring my ache
It's tight and swollen pulsing blue,
A sac too bulging, grip the swell.
Your palm, it's overflowing silky hair,
Tingles your palm wretching,
Stretch my balls, drive the nails up,
And scratch a tough wailing,
I'll yield no yelp.

Nails grit the skin, a vulgar strip, skin walls Shred a little blood,
Balls rising, falling a torrid pace.
Cup both hands and shove the writhing
Into that teething grate.
Bite to taste a salted blood liqueur
Vapid no longer,
Dribbling cum curtains your face,
Mats a blonde coife, parting with a sting.

Jolting back to drive the shafted muscle
Your throat jabs the eye's pulse,
You're drinking with a gusty harlot heaving,
Throat banging a gagged banshee.

A neck yanked to the limit,
Head smacked to my member's hilt
Inhaling a stenched sweat-groined lashing.

You'll breathe some air.
When I'm done with the
Belting, smashing
Your face, throat
The
Sluttish
Rendering.


Both hands I'll rake my gorged heft
Swollen you're purged
Your hands can't wring the cascade.
Just wear it, drink and inhale.
You're a
Gutter.