Cocktails

It is always intriguing to follow
Sir's eyes, while averting my own:
This old man who tells me to swallow
My boyfriend's young cock, so boy bone
Is pressed in my throat and outlined
For the pleasure of an aged viewer,
Who leans over us. He's inclined
To pull down jean pants and, then, skewer
Adonis arse. Master's cock
Is thick and quite rigid: my boy
Is no longer laid back: the shock
On anal star's acute. You toy
With us both, Sir; your enjoyment
Is something to make us regress
As strange creatures needing deployment
Of cock into crevice. Excess
Is never enough for a something:
And we are two somethings for Sir;
We're used to this unsubtle drilling.
He chooses just how we concur.
Control Is exerted once taken
And we both accept a good seeding;
Our bodies are stirred and, then, shaken -
Knowing each cocktail's intriguing.