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Ode To The Woman’s Inner Thigh
Ode To The Woman’s Inner Thigh The queen of the body not thought of In kindred spirit of a soft glove Smooth, soft and never asleep Goose bumps appear without even a weep Receptive to a gentle tongue Or even a ballad softly sung The pathway to eternal bliss All it takes is a firm wet kiss An open road to nectar so sweet No Thanksgiving feast is better to eat A massage will yield the erogenous spot And never again will she be so hot |
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11/23/2018 5:22 pm |
A Holiday poem for our lovely ladies on Passion
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