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Jan 2016
Night falls over Soho and, gazing into some cheap ****'s eyes
Over a candelit-chequered-food-stained tablecloth,
Beneath my belt an immense ******* lurks leakily,
The seams of my ****** soaked with bursting lust,
My groin twitching in desire for her wanton ****-flesh.

Streetlight shining through threadbare curtains
Glinting sexily over my hairy pounding buttocks;
My screamed roars of pleasure echoing
In the deepest depths of her tenth-rate mind;
Her poor brain collapsing in mighty mid-******.

Morning reveals a classy scene to chambermaid's gawp:
Spread-legged cold-as-chilled-salami ****,
Puny brainbox imploded like mashed bananas
By staggering rivulets of overpowering *******
Like a duck's entrails in an unwashed sink.
Edna Sweetlove
Written by
Edna Sweetlove  London
(London)   
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