The Winged Friend

You can come across for hours
Without ever tiring
But I'm already scuffed, but it's awesome
As much magic potion as I produce
To maintain the smooth, sliding guiding glide
I should be completely dehydrated by now
But no, your hydrant and celestial wine
Still dripping from my chin
This is how ambrosia and nectar have to taste
Ambrose Chapel, ha! Ha!
Soon the Konga drums on the sore muscles of my jaws

By now you should have grinded me up internally
As violently as you mortar my cunt like a pharmacist
Soon I'll be just angel dust
That you can then inhale as an aphrodisiac
Healthier and more natural than various drugs

My Greek sister embrace your wing tips
Clitoris Maculatis - the gatekeeper of the vaginal path
But now her chest swells with pride
She insists on her lustful right
Then to reap kisses from your tongue
From which she draws energy
My aroma and fragrance make you almost demonically mad

You may be a Fallen Angel
But you straightened up on your sword
And rammed it moaning into me
After all, such a sharp weapon belongs in the protective sheath
So that it doesn't cut anyone's flesh

In your infernal form
You have even two tails
The comb of your cock swells
In the chamber of my knowledgeable ability
Infinite delights - never melted -
But this is another story ...