Some rhyming housekeeping…

“Get up off the floor, boi… I want you waist high.”

Like a drug when near Her… it could only sigh.

“Come closer, pet. I need you…” (to complete a task.)

Eager, crawling, waiting… for what Mistress would ask.


“Now that Sir has gone… come get what you deserve.”

Moving blindly closer… to Her tanned and sultry curve.

“You may remove your hood now…” (So that you can see.)

“Treat me like the Sun however… don’t dare stare at me.”


“Lick it from my body, pet… lap from me His seed.”

It obeyed with vim and vigour… it was almost greed.

“Until I’m satisfied, boi…” (You will not stop.)

Then eventually: “Good, pet…” For taking every drop.



(Apologies, my erotic literary offerings always seem to come from a place that’s a little over stimulated around the twenty day mark of my chastity cycle!)









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