The neckline of her gown
Dropped down
A peach exposed
A fleshy pink
His eyes followed
And caressed each globe
“That wondrous charm of sex”
Whispered B.W. Procter
As he speared the melon
On his plate
Round and juicy
There is no explaining the itch
Biological urge
Fleshy lust
She was a hot blooded young woman
And he felt she owed him
He whispered “sweet nothings”
In her ear
Asked her to meet him on the deck
Half past one
The waves broke high
The wind blew straight
The sea always made him horny
Flesh to flesh
A sailor he would be
In his imagination
He sailed the seven seas
The master of his craft
A legend in his own mind
Asses to Asses/Lust to lust
Lust thou art, and unto Lust shalt thou return
June 13, 2018
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