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A somewhat erotic poem. |
A smirk upon virgin lips Crawling towards your quivering arms The sweet of her smell, the curve of her hips Disabling and outdoing your charms Just fifteen, six healing piercings Under her halo are devil horns She rides in the car you're steering She winks like someone off online porn When you touch her she isn't shaking So naive, so confident She knows her hymen will be breaking You were clear in the text you sent Quiet music peers in her ears Her hair sweeps her mid-back She makes you drunk without beer You explore the spine then seek the crack Her little mouth puckers into an 'o' Then she kisses it on your face Who thought one so young could make you grow? She peels off panties of lace Well-lit, but you cannot see her gray-blue eyes You are aware of what you'd see You know they are the color of a morose day's sky That is what they will always be Her toothpick shadow can't swallow yours But it will give it its been shot Locked inside as the cold rain pours How did you find a young girl this hot? You do not remember her hands quite that low But you will never mind You're glad you took her back to Stowe Anything to get your finger off the 'rewind' Touch the unknowing gently Teach her every lesson There will come pleasure of the pain of she However, save the spicy taste of aggression She nibbles a playful smile As your tongue muscles deeper You know if you stay down for a while She'll turn from a dreamer to a sleeper When it is time, you lift your head up She is starry-eyed, in a daze You trace your finger along the bra cup Across the backseat of your car, she lays Again covered in the familiar scent of between a young girl's legs She's not old enough to be here, barely old enough to release her eggs When she is timid but outrageous And you cannot tell her what to do She teases you, courageous You love that girl through and through. Her back begins to curve As she bends towards your waist Her eyes peppered with willful verve Snarling with a wild grace You close your eyes, but you wish to watch The shape of her pulsing lips The steam floats subtly up one notch As the salivating, torn cheeks grip You feel no teeth inside her mouth She is protecting you from them Pleased she chose to work her way south She knows not to bite a flower's stem Perched delicately, and awaiting The strike of the match, the wave of the wand It's now your turn for demonstrating Nervous for what you will abscond. You inhale as you level her body It is now the fire show She turns her face, her makeup gaudy You're finally able to let breath go She hums a note as you push inside Her eyes clamp shut, she curls her toes After the meaningful rhythmic ride You love this girl, you kiss her nose. |