tagErotic PoetryBreakfast at the Y

Breakfast at the Y


It comes fast
the rush of lust
blood fills
my burning rod
a piston in need
of her sweet cylinder

In the canyons of my craze
I thirst for her sweet peach
the nectar of her hive
where her world explodes
on my wanton tongue

Where her hip dance
becomes tribal
as she begs for more

I like it
wet and hot
cheeks painted
in her dressing
before I mount her
reminding her
a stallion
loves to fuck

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byCub4ucme© 1 comments/ 1496 views/ 0 favorites

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