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The Michael Lassell Pantoum (A fantasy) I want to blow him off and eventually I will. Unzip his pants beneath the desk He writes poems on. Stroke the pinkest meat From his unzipped jeans beneath the desk. Put my tongue to his mushroomed-head As I continue to stroke his uncut meat, his legs resting gloriously upon my shoulders as I fondle the silken hairs on his head, I reach beneath him and plug his poetic butt While his legs are balanced on my shoulders. Can feel his tender prostate. I reach beneath him and plug his poetic butt Touching his sweet A-spot, The tender prostate. I want to suck your dick. Touch his sweet A-spot, As I rim his asshole And suck his dick, I want to see the face he makes when he comes As I rim his asshole under the designer bed sheets, I want to see the face he makes when he’s about to come All over my chest. Under the JCPenney sheets, Is a naughty little tart Who is about to come all over my chest. I think this is love.
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