The moon it hangs low
Just like your two testicles
As they swing freely
A cool breeze rushes
Through the window I opened
And tickles my spine
Your cock points upwards
As if calling to the moon
And dribbles lightly
I clasp it so tight
Gripping it like a handrail
On a busy train
Its pulse feels heavy
Beneath my small sweaty palm
I can barely wait
My tongue flits over
The sensitive, tender tip
Lapping up honey
Fuck me like thunder
With the strength of a blue whale
Fighting the rough tide
Cum in my mouth, dear
There’s so much more semen left
That I long to taste
Lustful Lines 