Erotic PoetrySome daysSome days she's a child
Some days she's a saint
Some days she's a queen
Some days she just ain't
He gauges her moods
He walks round and round
Will it be his cock in her mouth?
Or his flesh by the pound?
He worries and he works
Trying to please her this way and that
A spot of tea my dear Elizabeth?
Or my tongue in your crack?
She sits on her throne
Don't fret she does say
Your my beautiful prince
At least on this day
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