- Erotic Poetry
- Nineteen To Thirty-Three
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She asked for a date,
And now we fornicate,
Against her nineteen-year-old belly I move,
Like a boy of twenty,
Listening to her coo,
Twice a week is her do.
I press against her breasts of twenty-seven years,
She has overcome most of her fears,
As I bring her to tears and elated cheers,
Whenever we can I am her man.
I ride on her thirty-three year old rock hard ass,
Exposing lewd passions she is denied,
In a mounting tide,
Nasty and very married,
She loves to have sex with an odd older guy,
Once a week is our treat.
Her twenty-two year old hourglass body,
Matched by her slender hourglass legs,
No oil does her knees need,
She loves to hinge on top of me,
Swaying like a graceful willow,
Blown by the winds of passion,
I am her weekend fashion.
The greatest difficulty I have,
In my latter middle years,
Is keeping their name's straight,
As we copulate.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 13 years agoA little strange in a syncopated way but I love strange. Malibu Babe
Anonymousover 14 years agoI love your prose of poems, eclectic out of sync, but you make me think. You have your own style, like completely. My age is rap, half the age of your experience.
LeBrozalmost 17 years agoA naughty fun piece. The line that comes to mind is, "What's your name again?"
