O look,
Miss Pinkie said,
I see your pecker
begs for its supper.
I heard Mahler's 1st
from the lounge:
2nd movement.
She lay back
on her bed
on her back
and spread
her plump thighs.
Come ride a **** horse,
she said
in whispered voice.
How she lies so
to do so.
I climbed into her saddle
and shafted into gear.
Her large soft
pillowy *******
welcomed me
motherly.
Her voice
reduced to whispers
whispered me on,
over hill and down dale.
See how he rides
like a ship in storm,
tossed back and forth
through froth and wave;
then cast a shore;
him the sailor
and I the *****
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 8:55 AM UTC
O look,
Miss Pinkie said,
I see your pecker
begs for its supper.
I heard Mahler's 1st
from the lounge:
2nd movement.
She lay back
on her bed
on her back
and spread
her plump thighs.
Come ride a **** horse,
she said
in whispered voice.
How she lies so
to do so.
I climbed into her saddle
and shafted into gear.
Her large soft
pillowy *******
welcomed me
motherly.
Her voice
reduced to whispers
whispered me on,
over hill and down dale.
See how he rides
like a ship in storm,
tossed back and forth
through froth and wave;
then cast a shore;
him the sailor
and I the *****
Request permission to use this poem