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 *****