can't swear in a poem

Someone once told me that I could not swear in a poem, here is my response....

T'was in the shower that he spied her flower,
At this mid afternoon hour, soon he felt empowered.
Playfully, touched she, the part of her, that he
On any given day, at any given time would happily devour.
He knew that soon, as he entered the room
Deep inside her he would be, almost to her womb.
He stripped naked at once at once, left his clothes in a bunch
Climbed into the room, small and cubic,
she had just shaved herself in areas pubic
the water was hot as she grabbed him by the cock
no more niceties you see, she was straight to her knees.
With lather in her palms, their eyes met.... again, her charms
As clean as a whistle, she had made him hard as gristle,
(though his hair tickled her like Otter fur bristle)
So into her mouth, she swallowed him all
His preference the south, as she played with his balls
As she sucked on him with glee
The wondrous sight he did see
Of her hand in the land, where he wanted to be.
To her feet from her knees he pulled her you see,
And roughly entered her, this made her quite pleased.
Noise she was making, soon she was shaking
And stand not could she, again to her knees
But he wanted more, pushed her to the floor
And took his love, treated her less that a whore
He shunted and shoved, around him tight as a glove,
Was the pussy that he simply adored.
Not longer could he last, the feeling came on fast.
And as his head took a whirl, his cum shot in his girl,
But at least, thought she, it's not in my arse.!