Registering His Coating

The voice will goad her now, she'll register
That perfect rhythm he creates as sound
Flows over her wound body; he'd prefer
It, if she remained still, for he has found
Her sucking to his taste  and he would fill
Her mouth with the hard cock she'd rather crave
He'll press against her throat - he wants to spill
His need over the tongue of his cock slave;
And shunts in slowly first of all, but soon
The tempo will pick up and she will note
She has the face to fuck - the morning's gloom
Is countermanded by his need to coat
The insides of her cheeks with his white woad
That registers, for she is his commode