POPS UP

My breasts pop out, your tool pops up
when I slip my bra off. We tup
when I have bared more attributes
and we reduced to birthday suits.
How rampantly do you perform,
in the bedroom we break the norm;
one night three times lost in rapture,
in diff'rent positions capture
the flowing of your pearly seed
in different versions of deed,
From under, on top and behind
making our pelvises grind,
leaving us, sweaty nakedness
with laps a sticky sated mess.