MAKING LOVE ON THE RAMPARTS

Making love on the ramparts,
pounding her feminine parts
as we looked out over sea,
tide's advance like enemy.

Her shorts and panties both down,
slit open to sceptre's crown,
took advantage of the dark
to carry out daring lark.

Most of the crowd were indoors
while she got upon all fours
as I followed, from behind,
for a wicked bump and grind.

Sandwiched between battlements,
we moaned F-worded comments -
how tight she was,  deep my plunge.
Got sweaty, wished for a sponge.

Exploding like cannon fire,
how loud her breaths did expire -
so loud I thought we'd be sprung
ere I could cover where I hung.

Heard no footsteps come running,
she tells me I was stunning
after I tongue-cleaned her up
and she redressed after tup.