Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
She lies there on the floor of our room in that cheap small hotel in Paris. I wonder who else has lain naked on this floor wanting *** in the raw? Sonya asks. You look like a model for Degas, I answer. Come on then Benedict don't dither standing there like the Pope at a down town **** she tells me. I undress taking off my black jeans, and tee shirt, and boxers. The small white radio in the room oozes out a Mozart aria. Now undressed I watch her taking in her plump fruits and blonde thatch. I descend upon her and harpoon her softly (my well known party trick), with my young Moby ****
0
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 12:09 PM UTC
MOBY **** 1973.
She lies there on the floor of our room in that cheap small hotel in Paris. I wonder who else has lain naked on this floor wanting *** in the raw? Sonya asks. You look like a model for Degas, I answer. Come on then Benedict don't dither standing there like the Pope at a down town **** she tells me. I undress taking off my black jeans, and tee shirt, and boxers. The small white radio in the room oozes out a Mozart aria. Now undressed I watch her taking in her plump fruits and blonde thatch. I descend upon her and harpoon her softly (my well known party trick), with my young Moby ****
LOVERS IN PARIS IN 1973.
TerryCollett
Written by
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 12:09 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem