Not Merely a C***t

The cunt's hand wanders with a will to whip
A frenzy in-between the slattern's thighs;
And, with permission, she will not disguise
The movement of her fingers: let them slip;
They'll glide between the drippiest of lips,
That would be flooding without compromise,
Were not her fingers able to surprise
The moisture and the dampness; I've a tip:

Let every finger excite her in ways
That she cannot describe; for it's too much
To recite all the feelings that would blunt
Emotions, as the whorish slut soon lays
Into her hole, which serves her as a crutch
To keep her sane; and not merely a cunt.