As To Her Steed Chained

Every evening after work, my boss would close the store,
And drive me across town, to a house by the shore,
And there... on me ...like a tiger she would leap,
And there.. with me....’course ‘till the sweat would weep.
Oh how sweet she looked, my insatiable love on the floor.

When sly and pink the dawn peeks the night to chase,
The naked rose did slide, lithe and moist upon my face.
Her every quiver a stealthy intruder of repose,
Her trembling lust a rhythm, in wired fibre shows,
Soft soul in heaven enthroned, on fire for tongued embrace.

While raging passions wake from wistful sleep,
And torrid cunts their countenance fail to keep,
The craven scent did sough and breathe,
And waves of woman roil and seethe,
And yearning moan from lip to cochlea leap.

‘Twas in my mind to beg my turgid cock a chance,
That wanton puss within, to swivel, pivot and dance
But the driven maid her madness insane,
Her steed rode as to her steed chained,
Ne’er once behind, the thrashing cunt did glance.

Thus to tender task my mouth her cave conjoined,
My lonely whip denied, the slattern puss purloined.
So her cunt with licks I showered galore,
Till her cunt did bawl and beg for more,
And every siren thrust, did sing the song of vantage coigned.

No rhyme nor phrase nor word of mine will ever show,
The want, which from this hungry dell, did swell and flow.
But think upon the flood wherein life did birth,
And multiply tenfold it’s spread upon this Earth.
I swim this torrent nightly, before to work we go.