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Click herehere we are again
remind me why i do this
you're up there very energetic
but never so much as one kiss
we've done this alot
we like it i know
but for once could you just like
be open so it can show
here we are again
me naked and legs up high
you grunting me panting
i wish i was able to sigh
now and then when we actually talk
although its really just the same
i need to remember to ask
your girlfriend-whats her name?
her we are again
i gotta give you your due
when i ask myself why do i do this
its because i like fucking you
Her boy is on top of her again, "energetic" as only a virile young male can be who's giving his fat young penis a real good workout up the same vagina he came out of. In other words, he's pumping away like mad, it's like he's trying to get his body back up inside the body he was born from. From time to time the boy gives a deep grunt, music to his mother's ears, since it shows how much her kid's enjoying himself up his mother's warm welcoming babyhole. But, typical of boys his age, he's eager to fuck but he won't talk. Oh, well, that's okay. Mom gets her reward when her darling baby boy blows his hot young balls and shoots her a great big twatful of creamy semen. "A mother's twat is her son's playground," and this son just loves making big puddles in his own personal playground. Mom loves it too.
It seems to me that you are trying to understand this relationship through this poem. Nice exploration. Good focus on the concrete. These poems easily go of the rails with too much abstraction.