They were fucking.
Writhing and bucking
Left hand on a tit
The right on her clit
His dick in her cunt
In her ass was a Blunt
She was enjoying each stroke
Then the Blunt broke
Took three days to pass
The tobacco from her ass
You’re my ex, aren’t you?
She texted, out of the blue
I assured her that it wasn't true
She was having deja vu.
But I racked my brain for a clue...
Was she among the throng I did screw?
They never last though, and it vexes
For, sadly, my John Thompson flexes.
Whatever the problem girls suspect is
They rarely stick around for breakfast
The thing about being bad at sex is
You end up with a lot of ex's.
You end up with a lot of ex's
Chasing dreams that will not last
Brightness blinds to all our faults
Burning them into our hearts
To compare both in the sack
Doing it twice to get it right
One was better with her tongue
The other, oh well, he almost got it done
The other, oh well, he almost got it done
So his girl decided she needed more than one
Thereafter, gang bangs were her thing
Multiple partners made her bell ring
Three, four or sometimes even five
Both boys and girls made her feel alive
Girls sucked on clits and boys took the tits
And both poked into all the other bits
And both poked into all the other bits
During flat-pack furniture construction.
This diagram from Ikea is shit
For doing an Eames reconstruction.
A classic and comfortable chair
Is not the result I achieved.
I'm not quite consumed by despair
But I'm more than a little bit peeved.
The leather is splattered with red,
Though the cut only needed one suture.
My handyman dreams are all dead
It's ready-made only in future.
It's ready-made only in future.
No made from scratch meals
With meat from the butcher
From now on just fast food deals
Might get Chinese takeout
Or pizza delivery
I'll take the fast route
And back in the reverie
And back in the reverie
A world of her own
Constellations of salt
Livid on blue
Wax skies of cobalt
Sin fills the cracks
Love gives to fault
Life is a dance
It's better to Waltz
It's better to Waltz
Than to Conga
A Waltz is an intimate dance
Although a Conga line's longer
It lacks any trace of romance.
I hold your hand in mine
Our bodies nearly embrace
With a Conga I look at your ass
With a Waltz it's your pretty face.
Perhaps I should recommend Limbo
When you spread your legs and lean back
Ass and face both forgotten
My word, what a beautiful crack.
My word, what a beautiful crack.
Dances sweetly just out of reach
Each cheek so round and aglow
She is, indeed, quite a peach
Bending over, e'en more is bared
That crevice extending low down
Leading to lips that speak only
With erotic, sensual sounds
With erotic, sensual sounds
Words alone will not suffice
Forget letters formed into words
I want the feelings transformed
Where words won't go
Where words won't go
A tongue finds a spot
A finger moves slow
Somewhere that is hot
A cock real or fake
Will fill up a hole
Cream left in it's wake
The ultimate goal
"The ultimate goal"
Lectured RB
"Is to let me
See where you pee"
"That's not the function
Of which I am seeking,
But the location is
Where I wish peeking"
Laughing aloud
The ladies all then
Lay on their backs
And let him peek in
Legs spread wide
So no view blocked
"Why!", thought RB
"I really am shocked!"
"That this would happen
And I get this view,
I'd have asked before
If only I knew!"
Then suddenly 'twas gone
Swirling out of his head
As he suddenly awoke-
Alone in his bed!
Alone in his bed,
Chuck looked at the one side next
to him and allowed
himself to pretend that Kate
was there for more anal fuck.
was there for more anal fuck.
Just fuck her up the ass,
No lube, no care,
Just ram it up Kate’s ass
Erotically.
erotically
weilding the dildo
a robotically
mechanized screw
nautically
touching the man in the boat
idiotically
letting me view
Letting me view
Hidden in your heart
Not always forbidden
Very much of you, a part
Don't let it out
Only damage will be done
Best color over
And pretend it's not dark
And pretend it's not dark
That valley now between us
We imagine reaching out
Restoring the past for us
But we know the truth:
That valley will n'ere be crossed
The gulf grows ever deeper
Now tinged with eternal frost
So let us just drift apart
As happens so much ofttimes
Seeking the fading glow
Cherishing golden times
Cherishing golden times
When I was first across the line
My pleasure not remotely diminished
By not knowing if the other even finished.
The selfishness of my youth
In retrospect, very uncouth.
Many years since that action occurred
Now it's ladies first...
...second and third.
....second and third
The call went out
To the room of buyers
Then two nude women appeared
In the room not a word was heard
The women turned as if on cue
To give the buyers
A full view
I know, I seen it live
As bids were wrote and paddles waved
The next two were called out and
On my right breast was #5
On my right breast was #5
For the life of me, I can't remember why
On a scale of ten
Is my tit just average
Fifth of many, or just five
Fifth of many, or just five
If I MUST start this one off that way
Are two separate ways to describe
The last quint born on her fifth birthday.
Not very poetic so far
Chance of improvement: debatable.
If jenny keeps ending poems like that
Results will be regrettable.
Results will be regrettable
No matter what we do
So why worry about it,
Let's just go and screw.
Lost in fleshly pleasures
Fires in loins flare
Aching to be close joined
Making one from a pair
Bodies quick responding
Primal urges take control
As lubricating nectar
Quickly begins to flow
The feeling deep within
Explodes to engulf all
O're the peak we ride
Afterglow holds us all
Afterglow holds us all
Results not so regrettable after all
Endings just another start
But some of us can't see through layers
Try as though we might
So now I'll leave an ending here
Perchance an easier place to start
Perchance an easier place to start
The sex-ed teacher pointed at the chart
Would be up here behind the ears
Gentle nuzzling to allay her fears
If you feel her tension ease
Start massaging each of these
The pointy bits, with gentle tweaking,
Will swiftly have your partner leaking
The pointer moves the teacher drones
On and on about erogenous zones
I zone out I have to say
Worry about that some other day.
Oh foolish boy! That was the key...
Earlobe, shoulder, back of knee
If you don't know these crucial places
You'll never get round all the bases.
You'll never get round all the bases.
If your technique is brusque and brash
"Thrown out at first" may be the call
If solely for the prize you dash
Now, there are certain times indeed
When subtlety out the window soars
When primal forces take control
And lustful needs drop our drawers
And lustful needs drop our drawers
Giving in to all our desires
Wanton and wicked
Exploring them all
Behind these doors
Sometimes the slut
Exposing the inner whore
And in the end
We find our needs reward
We find our needs reward
In sexual interaction
Lust and love combined
For erotic satisfaction
As holding close we coast
Down from orgasmic height
A golden glow enfolds us
As we cuddle through the night
