- Erotic Poetry
- no title
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Egosaurus the messenger
Small craft and little embers
He took his hands and tapped that ass.
Not mine. His bro's
Salivating to words I told
Rhymes I sold
But did no one buy
They ll rather decipher and
Punish you for your crimes.
Fantasy crime, dulling my fiction
No, they wouldn't kill my imagination.
He came into my room, Denoficus
Ready to fork me with his yellow spoon
The lure of my hands on his dick
From time to time, a little spit
He came, then I went...
To go wash my hands.
I'm that clean sort of gal.
Just as I'm exiting the 'throom
He grabs hold of my waist
Mouth rush like he was late.
Fucking my tongue and kissing me under
Grabbing my breasts and squeezing the bottom.
This little ass of mine,
You ll never know until it's grinding
Grinding on you.
What monstrocity it reeks
It's an ass for feeling, not seeing.
Slowly he enters
Takes me from the rear.
Spins me around touching caressing my hair.
Mouth watering silence
Then
Egosaurus storms in
"You guys got room for one more?"
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