Should my hands not cover
the tips of my nipples, let me
turn slightly so as to not expose
my Pinocchio nose down below
And should my bells lag then
imagine their pleasure
when frustration becomes less
of a beautifully crafted barbaric
mess as of if pounding the Gorilla’s
chest
Beneath your navel your brow beads
trickling from perspiration
Dab it I do
knowing it will never dry as
long as I am long and strong enough
for you to cuff me
time and time again
There
And down there
wasting each other after engulfing
me lovingly yet violently
yet insatiably
Let us not speak after words
even though you may see the dark
side of my moon as I walk away
Look at my face
when I return and then after
for completeness
TTBoy's Infamous Blog 
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