Armpit Arousal

The curves and crevices, they hold a power,
To arouse and entice, in every hour.
Stubble tickles and teases, bringing pleasure within,
A mesmerizing scent, where fantasies begin.

Oh, how you long to suffocate in sweet stink,
To feel the aromas, and let your thoughts sink.
Headlocked in skin so smooth, you find delight,
As the scents intoxicate, and fog your sight.

But alas, your desires shall not be fulfilled,
To penetrate the pits, is not to be willed.
For my pits enthrall, but I hold the key,
To sniff and to lick, only if you plea.

Sweat balls and dripping drops, so sweet and so divine,
You yearn to taste and savor, the essence that is mine.
On hands and knees, you crawl towards the pits,
Drawn to their aroma, and all that it befits.

But alas, my dear pit lover, your pleasure is denied,
To bury yourself within, is not for you to decide.
Yet still, you fantasize, with throbbing desire,
As my finger strokes the depths, your yearning set afire.

The constant state of arousal, the stupidity so deep,
The more you inhale, the more your senses weep.
Liquid luck drips, from my pits to your tongue,
As you crave my stench, like a song yet unsung.

Sunny days and sweat stinks, they drive you wild,
The thought of my pits, makes you feel beguiled.
Teased by my angles, as I flash my pits with glee,
The sight and smell, drives you to ecstasy.

But alas, my dear pit lover, your dreams remain dreams,
To be smothered and suffocated, by my stinky extremes.
To lick and to inhale, until pleasure overflows,
To bathe in my stinky essence, as my laughter bellows.

Oh, the joy you find, in your pit-filled bliss,
Addicted to arousal, by this simple abyss.
A pathetic cock, so hard for armpits' delight,
But in this simple language, we keep it light.