My dirty thoughts,
I drift away,
Letting hands wander as the may.
They start on their paths,
Losing control exploring me.
Breathing now labored,
Thoughts of you,
Oh goodness what those thoughts can do.
Soft moans follow,
Along with a whimper,
I feel my body growing limper.
A satisfied face,
The explorer lay lifeless under a wet layer of lace.
Even though I can't have you now,
I have my wild imagination,
Which seems to often lead to masturbation.
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