D
Dumbledore
Guest
Let me stroke your cheek, baby.
And spread you over a picnic table.
And worship your hot throbbing rod
With my warm, questing tongue.
And when your rod is poised
I'll lower my wet, quivering opening
Onto it
And ebb and flow into your waves
Until our loving
Makes you sputter foam
Inside me and onto
The red-and-white checked plastic table cloth.
Johnny.
And spread you over a picnic table.
And worship your hot throbbing rod
With my warm, questing tongue.
And when your rod is poised
I'll lower my wet, quivering opening
Onto it
And ebb and flow into your waves
Until our loving
Makes you sputter foam
Inside me and onto
The red-and-white checked plastic table cloth.
Johnny.