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Click hereI’ve split open like a flower,
and he is in furor at the sight.
We tilted till his river spilt.
It was an almost painful joy,
this older man and I,
my pinkness inviting him in,
and as we were once clean,
that’s how soon we were perverted.
How remorseless is the sin,
for he creamed, and I gleamed.
What a polished pie I was.
I fell apart in his aura of sex,
and we beamed, us two,
for pearl-goo had stained me,
and I was then his slut,
happily drowning in his shots of sea.
He knelt on his knobby knee,
and he tasted and it pasted him.
His face shone with a sheen.
I had flown one time, then two,
and his old, wrinkled face
found itself between my thighs,
and then I squealed again,
washing him clean between the eyes.