A bad old ***** will swallow ***** quick:
At one great gulp; and then have it again,
Sometimes splashed on her – a diverting *****
Will not confound her ever, even when
At night fall, in the shadows, hair held tight
And jaws unclenched, by his force pressing in,
She buries all her pleasure and delight;
Subsumed to his excitement, she’ll begin
To drink his dank *** in to fill her throat,
For a brief while, to keep him quite content:
She, crouched and waiting, eager for the coat
Of viscous slime, on which she is hell bent,
Not caring for the texture, but the itch
That motivates a bad, old thirsty *****.