Bleeding It Full a Whiter Shade of Pale
Ah, how she fawned, and dipped well
at the smell of mine gleefully twitching.
She'd watch close the spitting clear
seasoning pool, brush a cheek,
her hot exhale gripping, sponging
my violet beet red head's want.
And I'd show for her and knead my
flexing fingers through her scalp and
listen to her panted gasp inhale my
stretched drum skin, her mumbling face
close, my swollen hard bobbing to each
marionette drooled prayer of her's.
Urgent yet gentle blow on the end,
a coquette kiss with her wet lips
beading and she'd linger lazily to
swirl and inhale each new twitch, jerk,
adding her saliva slick to the growing
coating, the seed brewing, bubbling.
She'd whisper to the hard red swell,
roll and play in her hands the slick pump,
and always her dabbing tongue searching,
a scooping, frenching into my pea sized slit
opening, calling for more seep to inhale,
and each mouth pet whisked the scent.
She knew when the edge had been tipped,
when the spill was mixed and rushing and
she'd stretched her neck and flex the pulsing
flush and vent deep into her lungs
the sweet man pooled smell marking her,
gushing ribbons of splashed semen, painting her.
Fare we a rare dine, glazed and covered, bare,
and nightly I cum for her, howling in my fist,
a thousand times, and pacing the dizzy miles
lumped in the wilds between her reservation
and mine to be ditched, practicing pat and patter
cumming on her her pale skin again
bleeding it full a whiter shade.