Nasty

It is, of course, lost you know
The memory of where I first saw it
First felt its presence
Tasted its hard fragrance
That which burned my tongue
And seeded my pants
With an uncontrolled function
Dysfunctional, appropriately
And she ate it up!
Without so much as a whimper
Heating my desires with a burning lust
No amount of her juices could dissolve
She stillborn me
Froze me to a rigid stance
And she clung
She held
She taunted
She tasted
She teased
Her squat betrayal to her privacy
She gave without a second thought
Desiring the looks
The prone advances
Sopping wet her pink labia
She tested and used against me
Around me
Within me
Within herself
The tightness she felt
Warm moisture around moist warmth
Fingers as probes to depths of mine as hers
I was hers
And she was hers
But never each others


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