Surfeit  Afternoons

Thoroughly skewered by my jaunty cock
She could use her feet to comb my hair
Or receive some soleful kisses there
As her warehouse love was my loading dock.
Her beauty was on its fullest display
With ease of access to feminine bits
From head to toe and welcoming tits
In the heyday only she could convey
In all of her cornucopian prime,
Sprawled into a smorgasbord spread
Hard mulled by my horn of plenty in time
When Aphrodite and Cupid are fed
And well revered by Dionysian rhyme...
Where lust fucks paper with a pencil lead!