He took me to his home,
No one had gone before,
Perched on luminescent throne,
A god like those of yore.

From his regal brow,
Down to his noble thigh,
And muscle in between,
I took in with my eye.

He split me with his manhood,
He owns my pearly skin,
The pearls that tipped his god head,
Are safely housed within.

I glory in his figure,
I delight in every touch,
I worship him with rigor,
Until I cry, “Too much!”

I beg for my release,
His Olympic needs not sated,
His attentions do not cease,
Until his throbbing has abated.

How lucky then, am I?
A mortal for a god.
Content now just to lie,
No match for Heaven’s Rod.