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Click hereIt’s great oh god, I’m dying!
There was nothing original
Perplexing or surreal
In her hushed excited grunts
But to me with her back shining white
And me with trembling arms around
Unimaginable yielding mounds
In a quickly steaming
Breathing storage space
Her words were no less
Than surprise solution
of paradox never solved before
Caesar crying:
I saw I came I conquered!
Or maybe it was I who actually cried
Oh god! Oh great! I’m dying…
Sometimes the unpoetic is more poetic. Also the poetic tends to suck the heat out things.
Sometimes it feels as though you can not differentiate who has said what, as the two lovers (being as one) often merge in more than one way. Loved your playful way of approaching this, yet it still packs heat. Well done! ~JaneAusten