I’m lying under the dog
And taking my two hips aside
To see being naked its cock.
Its resilient body is tight
And heavy and it really wants
But his withered palpus that cut
Short cannot achieve master’s haunt
So needs my hand foil. And gut
Feels little and pushing its pulp.
There’s fur on my smooth tidy lap.
Why sin? It is funny. Next culp
To pray for me you’ll make a cup.
07/25/2011