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deepundergroundpoetry.com
Broken poet
Broken poet
Chained to my wheelchair, you must follow where I lead, you have just enough loose chain to do the tasks I need
Always in a short cute skirt, no panties can be worn, glimpses of your pussy, give the broken poets mind the horn
At any moment of the day, he may call you to his lap, or make you reach for something high, so he can give your ass a slap
When you are on the chain, your bodies his to own, he takes up skirt pictures, to keep on his mobile phone
He sits you on his lap, Ihe finger fucks your moistened slit, his fingers forever hungry, playing with you clit
You push your fingers deep inside, you feed him your precious wine, sucking you off your fingers, the taste is so devine
He loves it when you both go outside, people often stare he knows it, but you walk beside him head held high, you're with your broken poet
Ron
Chained to my wheelchair, you must follow where I lead, you have just enough loose chain to do the tasks I need
Always in a short cute skirt, no panties can be worn, glimpses of your pussy, give the broken poets mind the horn
At any moment of the day, he may call you to his lap, or make you reach for something high, so he can give your ass a slap
When you are on the chain, your bodies his to own, he takes up skirt pictures, to keep on his mobile phone
He sits you on his lap, Ihe finger fucks your moistened slit, his fingers forever hungry, playing with you clit
You push your fingers deep inside, you feed him your precious wine, sucking you off your fingers, the taste is so devine
He loves it when you both go outside, people often stare he knows it, but you walk beside him head held high, you're with your broken poet
Ron
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