PIDDLED? NO

When your breasts I had twiddled,
I thought that you had piddled,
that one too many tickle
had made your bladder trickle,
for your panties were so WET
when I reached hand down to pet,
between the fork of your hips
under jeans, your lower lips.

But lovingly you explained
that your bladder had not drained,
It was your feminine glands
had been stirred up by my hands
playing under your T-shirt.
"Not laughed so much, didn't hurt."
"Then I'd better clean you up,
I'm sure you'd fill up a cup!"

Wanting to clear up this mess,
jeans and panties I undress.
Like cat I licked pussy lips,
and took some sucking sips,
Your T-shirt you threw away
while the sunny light of day
shone through the bedroom window
as I worked magic below.