Summer Trips and Summer Ties

The waves can pound the shore: let flowing tides
Rush in to swamp the beach below the dunes,  
Where I will lie imprisoned, since you've tied  
My ankles and my wrists;  these afternoons,  
Replete with still excitements, are such fun;  
They're filled with fucking, hidden in the sand;  
You've tied me with legs spread, so you could cum  
In all presented holes; and, if you've fanned  
Our pleasure within sight of distant cliffs,  
They shadow a used pet upon the coast;  
You keep this little harlot well content,  
While stopping all those silly buts and ifs,  
And wistful looks from one who'd like to roast  
Beneath the sun, while waves pound heaven sent.