Weeping Willows bend as if weeping
near the pond on where fish spawn.
I lay in our bed masturbating
with my head on my pillow thinking of us.
Shooting stars in the sky
as if on the Fourth of July.
I raise my hips
stroking my cock.
Like two Flamingos dancing
and mating for life,
I think of you moments away
yearning to fondle your soft breasts.
Kissing you in places you dared.
Thighs wide I sympathize with others.
I stretch my foreskin.
The smell of new mown hay
in the fields behind the house.
Mowed only today.
The day you said group sex.
Releasing the aroma that nature provides
as my best friend enters you.
You claw his back.
Biting his shoulders.
Now it's time for the three of us.
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<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/love-poems/mown-hay.aspx">Mown Hay</a>