Eight Naked Women Surrounding

Eight women surrounded him like the legs of a spider;
Breasts were in abundance:
Firm and jiggling orbs like torso-grins.
And they did smile as his lustful tongue extended,
wanting to absorb the beauty of these sixteen breasts.
Fondling with his palms,
salivating at the sight until the nipples fed him,
and the tightening of his pants
that wanted to punish these sweet, feminine teases.

Eight women surrounded him like the spell of spider;
Honeyed pussies flowed in desire:
O, how their perfumes taunted his nose.
They were perfect and pink gashes, fit for invasion,
almost like the sight and smell of gutted fruit.
His fingers found their pockets,
innocent little holes that opened to his nudge.
The love buttons that sprouted from their cave,
wet and glistening, nearly begging for male throes.

Eight women surrounded him like charming spiders;
Their bottoms were round and unused:
Tight little globes that never knew a bad day,
but, oh, in all their blushing glory after a spanking.
And they eight were all bad girls;
Their wiggling butts were in a need of pat,
and he nearly panted at the opportunity.
His groin grinded against them, a present for them,
a hard, dripping gift that reproduced worlds.

Eight women surrounded him like the silk of spider;
Their legs were shapely and now spread:
The invitation was more than he could bear;
They were dancers and old-man romancers:
Smooth and soft, so easy;
Spread wider, stretched like a drawbridge.
Thighs thick and rippling, pretty,
sixteen legs apart, shining with their cherry insides,
welcoming him to eight planets of fantasy.