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On Shoestrings

Tags: erotic

Tip toeing in your room on shoestrings,
Not to awake you in your tranquilities.
Bringing you Sandman laces of erotica,
And visions of sexuality. 

I hum poetic love songs
In the land of sensual dreams,
As you lay yourself to sleep,
Beneath window of your keep.

Gifted I am not divinely blessed,
But with my cock and quill I confess.
My words pretty well describe me.
The philosopher of green ivy.

A scribbler of sensuality,
With esteem I prose with my soul,
Creation of pleasures in ebony.
Forgetting all about semantics.

My tongue drools on parchment,
Tasting the entrance of the womb.
The beginning of all darkness,
And fornication of the flesh.

In your peaceful sleeping nest,
I suckle breasts and pointed tips. 
Lactation caressing my lips like ambrosia,
With hardness my cock arises.

Within the jaws of deep desires, 
Exploding like hot lava,
Sweet guava of my streaming cum.
Beneath window of your keep.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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